No One Knows
by brilliantmemories
Summary: The only thing happened less than teaching - was learning. teacher!Shaun/student!Desmond, and other major, sometimes crack... pairings. A high school AU story with the characters of AC having fun in their teenage years. *Intense slash* READ AND REVIEW!
1. Teacher's Pet

**No One Knows,** _a teacher!Shaun/student!Desmond fanfic_

**A/N: **This was actually inspired by a dream I had. And oh god, was it ever _amazing_. So, I'm just going to try and write down that dream chapter at a time and hopefully this'll be successful. Oh yeah, this is maaajorly AU.

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Shaun Hastings adjusted his glasses, jerking backwards to dodge a paper plane's momentary flight.

In front of him, monsters battled back and forth, swords wielded and drawing blood. The graphic scene in front of him looked like something that might be in a _Marvel_ comic book of the sort. Battle cries were heard from across the room and together, teams united and quickly claimed their own nations. The noise was loud enough to shatter glass as he looked back down at his papers. Actually, there weren't monsters or any blood – it was just his students going _absolutely_ mad. It was Friday and all the students were eager to get out for Spring Break; _especially_ Ezio.

Ezio was a constant trouble maker who loved to torture Shaun daily. Numerous times, Shaun had tried to shut him down and force him to crawl under a rock from his nasty, sarcastic remarks but he fought to no avail. It was like talking to an immature, brick wall. Often, Ezio would begin to spew out mindless profanities in Italian – since he figured Shaun didn't know any other language because he came from Britain, but he knew more languages than he cared to admit. Surprisingly, Shaun noticed that Ezio's best friend was a complete opposite; Leonardo Da Vinci. The boy was a genius with outstanding marks in Visual Arts and he somehow always knew his way with words. He was no Shakespeare, but he was pretty damn close. The plane also had to be Leonardo's – who else had such architect-like skill?

Clearing his throat, Shaun tried to grab the attention of the class.

Instead, he was completely ignored. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Altaïr completely disregarded Malik, who was trying to show him a note. He watched as the teenager crumpled the note and frustration and shoved it into his pocket. Their eyes met momentarily, then Malik scowled and looked away as fast as he could. Shaun raised an eyebrow – teenagers made no sense. Beside Malik sat his younger brother, Kadar, who was furiously working on his history paper. He was the only student Shaun could expect to do his work – other than Lucy or Al Mualim. Shaun snorted to himself silently. Al Mualim always had a darker side of writing his papers, focusing on the victory of the baddies rather than the heroes.

In the back, he had placed Rebecca and Lucy because he thought they could handle it. But all he saw was their work left unattended and tedious gossiping ensured. _Woman_, Shaun groaned as he rolled his eyes. On the other side of Altaïr sat Maria, a tough girl who never backed down from a fight. She seemed intent on one single thing – winning Altaïr's attention. But it seemed neither her nor Malik were doing a decent job of claiming his consideration. No one knew much of Altaïr, not even his record sheet informed him much of the mysterious teenager. Shaun didn't care though, he seemed to do well enough. Quickly, Shaun scribbled a ninety-two percent down on his paper about the deserts of the Middle East.

With many voices going through the room, it was hard to focus on just one. Although, he somehow managed to tune into Desmond Miles. How could he not? The boy was standing right in front of the desk.

"Um… Mr. Hastings?" Desmond mumbled, keeping his eyes on the ground. Shaun had noticed that he wasn't much of a talker; or much of doing anything, actually. He completed his assignments but it was as if he lived his life in secret. Sure, he occasionally talked to Lucy or Rebecca, and he was one of the few who could grab Altair's scarce attention. But at the sessions he spent with Desmond for extra help actually proved to be useful of both of them learning something. In all his years of teaching selected history, he had never one such as Desmond, who longed for the knowledge of the past. When he didn't understand something or wanted clarification on a subject, he would stay at lunch and eat rarely. When he didn't eat, Shaun offered to buy him lunch but he reclined every offer.

"Yes?" He replied. The students always grinned when he spoke – it was hard to ignore his overwhelming British accent.

"I, uh, don't get this part," he said, holding out the textbook.

"What don't you get?" Shaun replied, smiling slightly. Desmond was the only one he wasn't exactly sarcastic with, since he knew he didn't need a reason to annoy him.

"Well, just all of the Italian Renaissance. I mean, so many changes took place it was hard to… y'know, pinpoint. Do you think I could… come in at lunch?"

"Sure," he lowered his voice to make sure no other students could hear him. "Did you bring a lunch?"

"Well, no-"

"Then allow me to buy for you," he grinned, marking off another paper. Once again, Ezio received a forty-six on his Middle Eastern essay – the third failed assignment of the semester. He never really cared about history at all or any learning, in fact. The only high mark he had was in Physical Education and Sex Ed and Shaun didn't even want to know if he was taking the lessons from Sex Ed outside the classroom.

"N-no, that's not necessary-"

"Of course it is. You need to eat, you're a growing boy," he raised an eyebrow at Desmond's reddening face. "Let me go out with you at lunch to buy, alright?"

"Yeah… sure," Desmond nodded and returned back to his desk, beside Ezio. He was hoping that Desmond's willingness to do the work would hopefully rub off Ezio.

"Hey, old man!" Ezio shouted from his seat. Apparently not.

"It's Mr. Hastings to you, Auditore," Shaun spoke nonchalantly. It had been almost three months and he had slowly grown accustomed to his immature attitude. But, that didn't mean it wasn't getting on his nerves.

"Whatever. So, there were a lot of gay painters running amuck in Italy, right? Though, none wanted to admit it. So, do you think your ancestors were one of those painters?" He smirked, biting the end of his pencil. The class silenced. Watching Mr. Hastings and Ezio Auditore argue was like watching a free movie - there was a beginning, a build up, climax, and end.

"Auditore, I'm mostly from a British decent – though, from your record papers, I believe you're the one with an Italian history, am I correct?" He smirked, raising his head to look at the boy. Slowly, he watched as the boy's face turned a bright red.

"At least I'm not the one prancing around with men downtown," Ezio spat back, grinning maliciously. The whole class rose with a chorus of _oooh's_, causing Shaun's face to go bright red. What he did apart from his professional life was none of their business.

"Watch your mouth," Shaun growled back, pointing at him with the pen in his hand. "Or else you'll be doing desk cleaning for the rest of the year." The class responded with another set of _oooh's_, this time, directed at Ezio. The teenager merely rolled his eyes and turned to start talking to Desmond, who was a surprising shade of pink. Shaun looked back down at his papers and circled Desmond's perfect mark with a sigh. Did he really need help?


	2. Jealous Much?

**A/N: **Jeez, sorry for the long wait! I had a really bad writers block for this one. By the way, I accidently uploaded the first chapter again as he second chapter, so just ignore that. Sorry about that! Enjoy the chapter! And by the way, many thanks to the reviewers who left such nice comments for me. I enjoy waking up in the morning to see that I have so many reviews, so don't forget to do so! And y'know, don't be shy to request a pairing because I wasn't planning on doing some EzioxLeo, but someone left a comment and sent me a PM saying I should. So, leave your comments in the reviews! :3

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**Chapter Two**

The lunch bell rang and everyone jumped out of their seats in excitement.

"Oi! Sit down, _all of you_," Shaun snapped, stepping in front of the door to make sure no one escaped unscathed. With long faces, everyone returned back to their seats, itching to make a jump for the door. Feeling superior, Shaun let the feeling sink in for a moment before he spoke again. "I want chapter five read through and I want you all to understand it because we _may_ be having a quiz when you get back." Everyone groaned in frustration, except Ezio, who looked like he wanted to chuck a chair at Mr. Hastings and stab his eyes out with his pencil.

"Have a good lunch period," he grinned, stepping aside to let the students rush out the door. Ezio nearly knocked people over, trying to get through the crowd and out to their cafeteria. Leonardo followed behind him shyly, attempting to keep up with his rapid pace.

"Read chapter five my ass," Ezio laughed, slowing down to let his friend catch up with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Rosa, who winked at him and beckoned for him to come forth.

"Hey, Leonardo, I'll be busy this lunch period so-"

"Ezio! Can we go outside for lunch? I have nothing else to do, other than spend my lunch period with you..." He smiled meekly, shuffling on the spot. Ezio suppressed a large sigh, lips turning into tight frown.

"Leonardo... maybe some other time?" He looked down at the boy, trying to ignore his puppy dog look.

"Oh, alright... Okay, maybe some other time..." He sounded hurt, like someone who had been kicked while they were down. Just as Ezio was about to change his mind, Leonardo spun around.

"Altaïr!" He shouted, making his way over to the man clad in dark grey jeans and a plain black long sleeved shirt. The teenager looked down at him, the scar on his lip reminded him of Ezio's - it was surprising that they were in the exact same place. He had never really gotten a close up of the boy before.

"Yes?" Altaïr spoke, Malik beside him.

"Uh... I was wondering if you wanted to spend the lunch period with me?" He smiled sweetly, rocking back and forth on his feet playfully but subtly. Altaïr raised an eyebrow, glancing at Malik, who was doing the exact same.

"Yeah, sure," he kept a straight face as he continued to walk. Malik had to fight his laughter as he regarded Ezio's expression in the corner of his eye. Leonardo didn't even notice Ezio slink off, his confidence having taken a severe beating.

"So, Altaïr!" Leonardo smiled brightly. He was just excited to stand before the extremely mysterious yet cool teenager. Altaïr didn't even flicker his gaze towards him as they made their way outside, where it was raining lightly.

"What do you think of Mr. Hastings? Do you think he gives too much homework? I mean, it's not like I don't mind it but others might," he laughed to himself, causing Malik to raise an eyebrow. "Sorry, I ramble too much," he ushered an apology after seeing Malik's expression.

"It's fine," Altaïr spoke nonchalantly, making his way down to the lake. The rain didn't faze any of them, except for Leonardo, who had already grown cold. Teeth chattering, he wrapped his arms around his sides and began to follow the two more closer now. "I think Mr. Hastings is only taking his position of a teacher."

"Of course, of course. What about Ezio?" He smiled, the thoughts of his friend brought him the warmness that he so desperately needed.

"That... arrogant kid needs to be taught a lesson or two. He has no maturity and should learn how to properly use that mouth of his – all he constantly speaks of is garbage," Altaïr growled, brows furrowing slightly.

"Oh," Leonardo frowned, trying to conceal his disappointment. Ezio was a good friend too him, but Altaïr was somewhat right. He didn't usually use his mouth correctly, always landing himself in trouble or in bed with a female peer. Before he could reply, he watched in wonder as Malik, one armed, scaled up a tree with ease and plopped himself on a thick branch overlooking the lake.

"Can you do that?" Altaïr looked at Leonardo, whose eyes were glowing with surprise. He had seen Ezio do something like that a few times, but only from afar.

"Sadly, no," Leonardo replied, shaking his head slightly. Already, his brown locks were quite damp as they stuck to the side of his face.

"... Would you like me to take you up?" Altaïr offered, trying to hide his grin.

"Would you really?" Leonardo cried out in glee, trying extremely hard not to jump up and down on the spot. He had always wanted to do such athletic things, but he had not been given the body to be as lithe as his fellow, outstanding peers. He could only admire them from a distance as he saw them every time at lunch or in the morning.

"Why not? I will not drop you," he looked up to a tree and pointed at a branch, which seemed very high up, but Leonardo could not decline his offer. There was no way Ezio would help him climb to the top of a tree.

"Yes, please!" He smiled brightly as Altaïr beckoned for him to get onto his back. Once he did so, he then realised how small he was compared to Altaïr. Propped on his back, he could see the muscles in his back and biceps and he couldn't help but stare in awe. They were so similar to Ezio's.

"And up we go," he spoke, trying to conceal his laughter as he immediately lurched up onto the tree. Quickly, he grabbed each branch, navigating his way to his destination by using his feet and sense of direction. Clutching on for dear life, Leonardo opened his eyes and looked below them. They were already so far off the ground! Leo laughed, tightening his grip on Altaïr's shirt. He watched as they passed by Malik, and for a moment, an obscure thought crossed Leonardo's mind. _Is he... jealous? _He immediately dismissed the thought as Malik smiled at him, then looked off into the distance. He was one of Altaïr's only friends, so what was the point of him being jealous?

Finally, they made it to the top of the tree and Altaïr made his way onto a thick looking branch. Scaling it like a tight rope walker, he made it out to the middle and carefully set Leonardo beside him.

"Wow!" He exclaimed, overlooking the lake and the city behind it. They were up so high! For a brief second, he wondered what Ezio was up to. "Can we do this more often?" He smiled, feeling his stomach twist and turn as he dangled his feet playfully.

"Yeah, sure – if it doesn't bother Ezio. He is giving me quite a... murderous look…" Altaïr mused, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Huh? Where?" Leo asked, looking around frantically.

"Down there," Altaïr grinned, leaning in too closely to Leo and pointing to a lone figure with their arms crossed, standing a few feet away from the tree they were in.

"Oh. Hi Ezio!" He shouted, trying to keep his balance so he wouldn't fall.

"I think you should get down," Ezio was making his way to the tree.

"What? But I just got here!" He didn't mean to whine, but it was true. They had just settled and now Ezio had to come and get him like he was a six year old.

"Like I said, we will do this another day," Altaïr smiled, ruffling the boy's hair and motioning for him to get on his back. Leonardo did so without another complaint and they easily made their way to the ground, where Ezio was waiting with an impatient expression. Malik watched them from the trees, uneasy of Ezio's mood. Surprisingly, Ezio grabbed Leonardo's arm and pulled him off Altaïr.

"You alright?" He asked, eyes filled with concern.

"Yes, I am fine. Why does it concern you so much? I thought you were busy," Leonardo frowned, squirming from Ezio's tight grasp.

"I changed my mind and wanted to spend lunch with you, Leo," he sighed, loosening his grip.

"But you-"

"Let's go," he frowned, nearly dragging Leonardo back to the school.

"Bye Altaïr, Malik!" He smiled, waving awkwardly as Ezio held a strong grip on his good arm. In silence, they both made their way back to the school with the rain coming down heavier on their heads.

"Ezio, I don't get it. One moment you say you want to spend lunch or after school with me, but then you're with some girl or blowing me off. Why?" Leo frowned at the ground, stopping abruptly, and breaking away from Ezio. The teenager turned around and looked at him sadly, sighing as he walked back towards him.

"Come on, let's go inside."

"Why? Just tell me why..." He frowned, feeling the awkward tension in the air. "Fine, never mind. Let's just go to the art room or something..."

"No, Leo..." He groaned, taking his friend's shoulders in his hands. Slowly, he looked up at him, feeling the rain sinking slowly through his clothes. And then Ezio leaned in closely, noses touching softly. Leo felt his heart race and the blood rush up to his face as he stood, stunned at his friend's actions. Just as their lips were about to meet, a strike of lightning flashed in the background and a loud roar of thunder echoed through the skies. Leonardo jumped back, his heart skipping beats.

"Leo, Leo, relax. It's just a lightning storm," Ezio laughed, reaching out his arms. He had just meant to beckon for them to go inside but Leonardo rushed into his arms, hugging him tightly. Taken back, Ezio smiled and looked around before he wrapped his arms around his smaller friend, trying to give him the warmth that Leonardo had sought with Altaïr.


	3. That Was No Accident! Right?

**A/N:** Yeehaw! Chapter three - sorry I took so god damn long. I kept getting distracted by my other works and school. Anyways, hope this was worth waiting for! _Thank you so much for all the reviews I've gotten for this!_ I'll gradually make my way into all the request pairings, so stay tuned and keep reading the slash! Huzzah!

Beta'd by the lovely _Googleit6_ once again, thanks you ~

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**Chapter Three**

"Really... I don't want anything," Desmond frowned, taking the seat closest to his teacher's desk.

"Last time I'm offering – I suggest you don't turn it down," Shaun grinned, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He stood in front of his student, a twenty in his hand. "Well?"

"... Fine," Desmond grumbled, taking the bill from his hand. "I'm assuming you want me to get you something?"

"Of course! A lunch doesn't cost twenty bloody dollars," he laughed, crossing his arms as Desmond slowly got to his feet. "How about... Well, hell, just get me whatever you're getting. I have to stay back and keep correcting papers – I'm quite far behind."

"Oh, okay," Desmond frowned as he made his way to the door. After hearing Mr. Hastings' tell him that he had papers to correct, Desmond felt as if he was a burden on his teacher. If he was so far behind on his correcting, why should he be helping a student when he _knew _he didn't exactly need help? It baffled him just as much as it probably baffled Mr. Hastings. Shutting the door behind him, he began to make his way down the student filled hallways, trying to make it to the cafeteria without a scratch. As he made his way through the mass of the crowds, he finally stumbled upon his first obstacle.

"Desmond!" Lucy smiled, running over to give him a hug as Rebecca followed behind her, texting on her bright purple cell phone.

"Hey," he smiled, pocketing the twenty before she asked anything about the money. Or ask if he could get her anything, which he couldn't with his teacher's money.

"What are you doing for lunch?" She grinned, a faint pink making its way to her cheeks.

"Oh, just studying with Mr. Hastings, y'know. If there's a test, I don't want to exactly fail it," he sighed, recalling the last bad grade he received. He had ended up with a fifty-eight on his math test – not exactly a shining grade that he could boast about.

"Of course," Lucy smiled, playing with a strand of her hair. "I could have helped you study." For a second, Desmond swore he had seen Rebecca frown.

"Well, Mr. Hastings is an excellent history teacher and he knows the material pretty well... so, y'know, just trying to get the best out of the course," he smiled awkwardly, slowly making his way past her. But of course, she hugged him tightly once again before he could pass.

"Well, if you never any help – give me a call! You know my cell number," she smiled brightly, letting go of him. Desmond smiled at her and nodded, slipping away over to the lunch line. Looking over to his shoulder, he saw Leonardo and Altaïr conversing, with Ezio turning a jealous green in the background. Smiling slightly, he turned back to find himself at the front of the line. Quickly, he paid the lunch ladies and retrieved two burgers and a side order of "healthy" – used _very_ loosely – French fries. He managed to balance it all on a tray before he handed over the twenty and pocketed the rest in his white sweater. Quickly, he made his way back to the classroom, trying not to upset his tray as he mumbled a few greetings to people he passed by and knew only slightly.

"Hey, Desmond!"

He tried his hardest not to tell the guy to fuck off, as he was _just _outside of Mr. Hastings' room. Slowly, he turned around to come face to face with Ezio.

"Hey," Desmond smiled, trying not to let the irritation leak through his tone. It was surprisingly hard.

"Can I ask you something?" The teen ran over to Desmond and up close, he could really tell why the ladies liked him. Even Lucy sometimes sat in class, glancing occasional looks at the tanned, well built guy. When Desmond first saw him, he thought he was going insane – he looked somewhat like him, but with a short pony tail and a harder face.

"Sure, shoot."

"Have you noticed anything up with Leonardo? I mean, ah, I can't exactly place my finger on it but something's off..." Ezio trailed off, deep in thought. Was the guy seriously clueless?

"Well, whenever he tries to talk to you – you're always busy with..." Desmond didn't want to say whore or slut. "...some girl. You pay him as much attention as the police would pay with police brutality. Just sayin'," he sighed, leaning his back against the door. "Just go find Leo – spend lunch with him or something."

"... Right. Okay, thanks," Ezio grumbled, casting a glance at Rosa before he disappeared around the corner of the hallway. Finally, he awkwardly turned the door handle while holding his tray, and cracked it open. Cautiously, he slipped through the door and managed to keep a steady grip on both of their lunches. Mr. Hastings was sitting at his desk, eyes scanning a piece of writing. Occasionally, the brown irises would flicker to the textbook beside him, or he would merely close his eyes as if he were in deep thought for a moment. It was unsettling, knowing that Desmond could stare at his teacher all day without breaking eye contact.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there or bring me my lunch?" Mr. Hastings' voice snapped Desmond out of his trance as he tentatively walked over to his desk.

"Where do you want me to set it down?" Desmond looked over the teacher's desk – it was absolutely covered with papers and different texts, many novels and "things-to-do" labelled works were thrown haphazardly among the cluttered surface. Mr. Hastings tore his eyes off the paper he was marking and looked among his desk, smiling when he could see there wasn't a safe place to put his lunch.

"Just put in on a desk – I'll join you in a sec," he mumbled, scribbling furiously in red. With one quick glance, Desmond saw Ezio's name at the bottom of the page. Smiling to himself, Desmond walked over to a desk and made himself comfortable as he kicked up his feet.

"Feet _down_."

Desmond blushed slightly and lowered his feet back onto the floor. He had to mentally remind himself he was with a teacher, not a carefree student. Though, it was hard to do so sometimes. When Mr. Hastings wasn't wound up, he was a nice man to have a laugh or two with. Though, it was a rare occurrence that he could do something with the teacher that he could do with a student, and get away with it. Slowly, Desmond began to work on his lunch as he looked around the room curiously.

"What did you need help with? You said... mm, the whole chapter seems to be troubling you? The lovely Italian Renaissance?" Mr. Hastings spoke out of the blue, dropping his pen. Desmond sat up as he watched him push out his chair, walk over to him and pull one up to the desk where Desmond had put their lunches.

"Yeah... something along those lines," he muttered, chomping down on a few French eyes.

"Well – hey, good choice with the lunch," the teacher grinned as he took a large bite out of the burger. Desmond nodded and focused on his educator, watching him absentmindedly, his throat and the way the food raised a bump as it went down. "How'd you know burgers and fries were my favourite?"

"Uh, well... Don't the British love greasy food?"

Mr. Hastings laughed. "It's _all_ we have, kid. Not much of a choice there."

Desmond smiled as he finished off his fries and reached into the desk, pulling out a textbook. He gently sat it on his lap as he flipped through the pages to find the chapter they had been working on. He looked over at his teacher and smiled, earning one in return.

"Alright, chapter six. The Italian Renaissance in a nut shell..." And once Mr. Hastings began to talk, Desmond felt himself completely loose himself in the man's words. He caught small bits and pieces of it; painters, talent, individuality and creativity, making a new age of humanism. To be honest, Desmond felt a bit guilty taking up the man's time. He did understand it – he didn't need any of this help. It just felt nice, having someone to talk to who could be intellectual and more of an adult, than any immature teenager. Once again, Desmond felt guilty for thinking of himself so highly above the other kids. It wasn't their fault that they couldn't understand him – the reason why he tried to avoid them. After watching his parents get beaten by large corporate goons while he stood at the top of the stairs, doing nothing to help them, he felt like trust was out of the question. Small talk here and there helped. After all, without human compassion, one has _nothing_. The police were corrupt, they wouldn't listen to them as he shouted at them what he had seen. His parents denied it, covering up the bruises and replacing what had been broken. Something had been going on that he was never told about. Were his parents in some kind of mafia? The mob? Did they owe anybody money? He couldn't find anyone who would answer the question. So he was left wondering. Even as he sat beside his teacher, he still didn't know the answer.

"Desmond?"

"Huh? Sorry. What did you say?" He replied, frowning when Mr. Hastings sighed heavily.

"If you're not going to pay attention-"

"Yes! I mean no... I mean... I'll pay attention," Desmond mumbled, looking up at his teacher to immediately see a splotch of ketchup on the corner of his lip. Thinking it over for a moment, he didn't have to say anything. But it was bugging the hell out of him and perhaps Mr. Hastings would thank him. "You have some ketchup on the corner of your mouth."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, picking up a napkin off the finished tray. All the food had been wolfed down faster than Desmond thought they could have eaten it. He watched as his teacher dabbed at the wrong corner of his mouth. "Got it?"

"No, other end."

Mr. Hastings tried again, but was still missing it. How hard was it to get a speck of ketchup off your face?

"Here," he grumbled, took another napkin off the tray and leaned in closely. For a second, he forgot that he was completely breaking the teacher and student boundary, trespassing onto forbidden land. Desmond didn't notice Shaun stiffen at the proximity of his body or the way he gently wiped off the tomato sauce. His lips remained in a fine, tight line as Desmond smiled as he placed the napkin back on the tray, leaning on the edge of his seat. Just as Shaun was about to continue the extra help, Desmond grabbed his tie and pulled him in for a kiss.

Except, he accidently smashed their noses together.

Upon their painful collision, Desmond pulled back, holding his nose which throbbed painfully.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Mr. Hastings spat, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he took off his glasses. Desmond's face was the brightest shade of red the teacher had ever seen.

"I'm sorry. I j-just thought-

"What did you think? I... Desmond, you-" he was abruptly cut off by the lunch bell, signalling students to get to their classes or else a detention would be awaiting them at the door.

"I'd better go. I have art, on the other side of the school-"

"Desmond, wait! We have to talk about this!" Mr. Hastings barked as he sat up, watching as the young teenager rushed over to the door and slammed it shut behind him. Any moment, a class would come in and once again, he would have to lecture about the Renaissance. He didn't want to talk about history, at all.

For once, he wanted to focus on the present.


	4. Art Class Was Always Fun

**Chapter Four**

"Altaïr, what in God's name are you drawing?" Malik raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal his smile.

"It is an apple – what else could it be?" Altaïr snapped, almost breaking the pencil as he drew with frustration into the parchment he had been provided.

"Well, with the shape you have given the fruit – it looks more like a pear," Malik looked closer at it, and then drew back to his own portrait. He had been working on one of Altaïr, who seemed oblivious of his works.

"Who died and made you king of the apples...?" Altaïr mumbled, crawling back into his comfortable anti social shell. Malik sighed when Desmond sat at their art table, joined by Ezio after a moment.

"Hey, what's up?" Ezio raised an eyebrow when Desmond immediately pulled out his portfolio from their large table and quickly set to work with his sketches. None of the usual chit chat – he needed to distract himself for a few moments. Leonardo walked in with a gleeful expression, eager to jump down and begin his work. He pulled up a stool next to Altaïr, much to Ezio's annoyance and began to chat with him about the class.

"Say, have you started on your sculpture yet?" He smiled and reached under the table, pulling out his own portfolio with the plans of his statuette.

"Not yet, but I was going to start soon enough. What have you begun, Leonardo?" Altaïr peeked over to look at his complex plans, some of the writing done backwards. It made it unreadable to anyone other than Leonardo, which led Altaïr to believe that his friend was more than just an average genius. Altaïr watched as Leonardo picked up a pencil and began to sketch his plans more thoroughly, adding small details across the side view of the statuette.

"It's Juno, goddess of marriage and motherhood. I've always wanted to do a statue of these Gods but I've never gotten around to doing it..." Leonardo smiled and Altaïr couldn't keep back his grin as he motioned forward slightly. Ezio narrowed his eyes as Leonardo nudged over closer, bringing his work with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Ezio looked at Malik, who seemingly felt the same way.

"Interesting, I was thinking of doing such a thing myself. I could perhaps make Jupiter? That is, if you give me permission for your unique concept," Malik's jaw nearly dropped to the floor when Altaïr smiled at the young, teenaged artist. He managed to keep his mouth shut as he watched Ezio's teeth grind together. They all knew Juno and Jupiter were the king and queen of the Gods, entwined in an eternal bond that carried them through Roman mythology and into their history textbooks.

"That is a brilliant idea!" Leonardo exclaimed, clasping his hands together in absolute delight. They quickly began to chat amongst their selves, leaving Desmond, Malik and Ezio to their own projects; out of the dumb artistic loop.

"So, Desmond, what seems to be shoved up your ass?" Ezio grinned as he sat himself next to Desmond, who was working at shading one of his drawings. Desmond merely shot him a glance which intended for him to cringe and walk away like any normal person would under his glare, but Ezio merely continued to grin and even dared patting his shoulder. "Come on, you can tell me! I will not tell anybody."

"That's bullshit. I remember when someone told you a secret, that you blabbed it to the whole school the next day. Something about Lucy's... underwear," Desmond frowned, trying to pick out the specific memory, but his mind failed him and he returned back to his awful shading.

"Shit, Desmond, that was a minor thing! Everybody forgot about it the next year," Ezio scowled and picked up a coloured pencil and began to draw obscene doodles at the end of Desmond's paper.

"Well, I seem to remember a bit-"

"A bit, yes, but not the whole thing! It was stupid anyways, not even worth mentioning anyways. But stop trying to throw me off track. What has got you all hot and bothered exactly?" Ezio raised an eyebrow as he reached under the table to grab some clay he had taken from last class. Their teacher, Mrs. Rosie as they liked to call her, walked around their table, her eyes scanning the table and the amount of work that was being done. Noticing her, Desmond quickly covered the corner of his sheet with another piece of paper, much to Ezio's irritation. She didn't even notice as she scanned across their artwork, examining every detail she could without getting too close and personal with their artists.

"It's looking outstanding, Leonardo and Altaïr. A group project? I didn't exactly say you could do one but... it looks fantastic!" She beamed at the two, who merely nodded her off, too engrossed in their work to soak in her praise. Malik gritted his teeth as he pressed his pencil harder against his grey outline of his friend, breaking the lead in frustration from a plethora of pressure. Ezio frowned as he observed Malik for a moment, who reached back out to grab another freshly sharpened pencil. Mrs. Rosie walked away, a bright smile on her face as she went to regard her other, not as creative students, to perhaps tell them of Altaïr and Leonardo's master piece at work.

"Now come on, take that tampon out of your vagina and tell me what the hell is wrong," Ezio muttered under his breath as he began to work the peach coloured clay into a slender cylinder.

"Ezio, fuck off. I really don't want to talk about it," Desmond snapped back, trying to push the memories out of his mind as far away as he could. He wanted to feel Mr. Hastings' lips against his own, feel his rough hands against his exposed skin, their heated bodies pressing against each other. Never before had Desmond wanted to be so close to someone.

"Fine. Hey, Altaïr," Ezio smirked as he looked over at closely huddled teenagers, where Altaïr raised his head as did Leonardo in perfect sync. "This," he pointed to the shaped clay, "is Malik's dick." He laughed as he began a jerk off motion. Malik looked over and turned bright red before he buried himself back in his work, trying to take his eyes off Ezio's quick fingers.

"Ezio, your mild attempts at teasing are pathetic and I suggest you try harder," Altaïr replied to him nonchalantly, his face unreadable as he glanced at Malik. He was completely surprised when Ezio grinned, put down the clay on the table and shuffled over to be closer to Malik, their sides just touching. Desmond looked up from his sketch to see Leonardo snap back to his plans, working on them with twice the amount of eagerness he had started with, most likely out of embarrassment.

Desmond watched Ezio put an arm around the slightly smaller teenager and reach around to grab his writing hand. "Here, let me help you," Ezio whispered as he looked at the drawing. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and looked Malik, whose cheeks were tinted a soft pink. "It looks _fantastico_!"He pulled his hand back to let Malik work on the drawing himself, but kept his hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Desmond glanced at Altaïr, where he could see a slight tension in his jaw as his eyes subtly look at the two.

"Say, how about a back massage Malik? They're my specialty," Ezio whispered into his ear, putting both hands on each of his shoulders. Beginning to rub, Malik felt himself began to relax but when he saw Mrs. Rosie come over, he pulled away from the soothing hands.

"Here, I want you guys to glue your plans onto a piece of black paper, just to make it look a lot better, okay?" She smiled sweetly and handed out glue sticks to five members at the table, then set a collection of black paper in the centre of their table. Then she walked back away, her purple and blue floral skirt swishing behind her.

"Think she puts her make up on in the dark?" Ezio grinned as he pulled off the cap to his glue stick.

"Ezio, do not be mean," Leonardo frowned as he looked up at his friend with a disapproving expression. Ezio merely shrugged and flicked the cap over at Desmond, who rolled his eyes and went back to writing a certain someone's initials on the inside of his notebook. He felt foolish doing so, but it was like his right hand had a mind of its own. "She obviously is in quite the rush in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah, either that or she's still stuck in fifth grade," Ezio laughed. "Hey, watch this. She'll come walk back right in that spot over there," he pointed to the pencil sharper just a step away from himself. Before anyone could stop him, he tossed up the glue stick and it immediately stuck to the ceiling with a loud _thunk_.

Instantly, Desmond burst out laughing, followed by a small chuckle from Malik, a frown from Leonardo and a stale glare from Altaïr.

"Ezio... what if she walks under it and it falls?" Leonardo sighed as he set down his pencil and looked at the boy from across the table. The teenager merely grinned and he instantly had to hide his fit of manly giggles as Mrs. Rosie walked over to the pencil sharpener, with a blunt coloured pencil in hand. Everyone at the table was tense as they watched, almost in a weird slow motion, as Mrs. Rosie walked over to the pencil sharpener and stuck her light blue pencil in and began to turn the handle to grind down the tip to a sharp point. Just as she pulled back, the glue stick let out and fell to her head, the sticky end landing right in the middle of her mousey, gray hair. It took a moment for it to dawn on her, but the moment she pulled the glue stick out of her hair and tossed it on the floor, she rushed out the door with tears in her eyes.

"Ezio! That was so mean!" Leonardo hissed and kicked Ezio's foot under the table.

"Oh come on, that was hilarious!" Ezio laughed and grinned over at Desmond, who finally quieted himself but kept a massive grin as he looked up at the door. Suddenly, his smile disappeared as Mr. Hastings walked in with a stern expression. Ezio followed his gaze to their teacher and he instantly scoffed, ready to torment his frustrated teacher. Mr. Hastings walked over to the pencil sharpener, picked up the glue stick and looked for its cap.

"So, who did this?" Mr. Hastings asked the silenced room, his eyes scanning for all the unopened glue sticks. Instead, his eyes fell on the cap sitting in front of Ezio, who looked at him with a large grin. "Ah, Ezio Auditore. I should have guessed." He slammed the glue stick down on the table beside the teenager, who didn't even flinch the slightest.

"Well, aren't you just a genius, Sherlock?" Ezio looked up at him, mocking him with a large smirk.

"Ezio, get up and go to the office. I'm sure your parents won't appreciate this stunt as much as your friends did," he glared down the table and when his eyes met Desmond's, he instantly turned away. Desmond scowled as Ezio got up and pranced his way out, being sure to knock over a bucket of coloured pencils on his way out.

"Auditore! You get back here and-" Before he could finish his sentence, Ezio slammed the door behind him and Desmond could see Shaun clench his right hand into a tightened fist. Leonardo sighed and pulled back from his work and Altaïr rolled his eyes, smiling slightly as he went back to work. Desmond watched as Leo walked over and sat beside him, smiling weakly as he leaned against his elbows.

"I thought you had a class this period," Desmond looked back up at Mr. Hastings, whose lips twitched when he heard his student's voice.

"They're in the computer lab and Mrs. Rosengarden asked me to take her class while she went home. I thought you kids were more mature than that," Mr. Hastings snorted as he glanced back at Desmond, who could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him. "And I was _going _to leave, because I had another teacher taking care of my class, until she turned up. So, thank you very much, Desmond."

"It wasn't my fault, so don't blame me," he snapped back, looking over to Leonardo who had folded his arms across the table and buried his face into them. Mr. Hastings shot him a look before he adjusted his glasses, and walked over to a different table.

"... Desmond?" Leonardo began, turning his face to look at his friend.

"Yeah?" Desmond could feel his face turn red as he looked over at the small artist.

"Can we walk home together? Ezio is probably staying after school and I do not want to walk home... alone..." Leonardo blushed slightly before he sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. Desmond looked at him, surprised he had proposed the idea. They always walked home together, plus Ezio and sometimes Lucy and Rebecca. But he can see how uneasy Ezio's stunt had made him and of course, Desmond couldn't refuse. They had been, after all, friends for six years.

"Of course. What makes you think I would ditch you?" Desmond grinned and slapped his friend on the shoulder.

"I was just asking..." Leonardo mumbled. Just as Shaun was about to open his mouth, the bell rung and everyone sprang out of their seats, eager to put away their half assed projects and run out the doors. But just as some were heading to the door, Mr. Hastings stepped in front of them all and opened his mouth.

"I hope you all know what you did was terrible and such acts will not be tolerated at this school. The person who created this mess will get in trouble with the principal _and_ me, and most of you know I don't let students get off so easily, as others teachers do." Desmond scowled as Mr. Hastings' eyes focused on him, narrowing as he stepped aside to let impatient students run out. "No running in the bloody hallways!" Shaun shouted after them. Desmond helped Leonardo, Altair and Malik put their stuff away as they cleaned off their table and gathered their books, making haste towards the door. On his way out, Desmond bumped into Shaun roughly as the rest walked out in front of him. Just as he was going to make a break for it, Shaun grabbed his arm.

"Hey, let go of me!"

"You'd better watch that bloody attitude of yours, or else you'll end up in the same place as Ezio, as most _immature children_ do. You don't want your parents coming down, do you?" Shaun snapped, tightening his hold as Desmond stared at him, anger rising inside of him. Quickly, Desmond jerked away from his hold.

"Why can't we talk about that happened earlier?" Desmond muttered, trying to keep eye contact with his teacher. Shaun looked away, lips in a firm frown.

"Go on now. No students loitering around after school."

"You can't just keep avoiding this!" Desmond shouted, feeling his face flush a bright red.

"Avoiding what, Desmond? Now, get going. Or else you'll have a set of detentions when you get back from your _splendid_ Spring Break." Shaun turned around and shut the door, then began down the hall towards the teacher's lounge. Fuming, Desmond went to his locker, only to be met by Leonardo.

"Can we go see Ezio at the office before we leave? Maybe he is out already," Leonardo sighed heavily, leaning against the locker as he held his bright red hat in his hand. He never put it on until they got outside, obeying the school rules as much as he could.

"Yeah, sure," Desmond grunted as he shoved his art book into his locker, trying to jam it into his massive clutter of a locker. Just as the whole thing was about to come crashing down on him, he slammed the door closed, pressed up against it and clamped shut his lock to keep it all in place. Slowly, he pried himself from it and smiled when it didn't explode.

"Say, I heard you and Mr. Hastings arguing. Is he being rude or inconsiderate?" Leonardo asked as he watched Desmond's locker cautiously as they stepped away from it. Desmond shrugged and slung his backpack over his right, and now slightly sore, shoulder.

"Nah, he's just being a teacher. Strict bastard..." Desmond mumbled as they walked towards the office with Leonardo, both in low spirits for the kick off to start their Spring Break.

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**A/N:** Wooo! Another chapter; jeez, it's been way too long, huh? Well, googleit6 was really bugging me to finish this chapter then I got a PM from Sono la Notte, who "implored" me to finish this chapter (haha!) and so, I had to. I'm sorry to keep you all waiting this long, but it's just starting to get good now. Plenty of goodies in mind for the next chapter, so drop a review or send me a PM for more ideas, because you all have been great!

Like I've been saying, more support and reviews always make me write faster.

_**PS:** Don't forget to vote in the poll on my main page! Results may select which story gets updated next ~ :)_


	5. Friday

**A/N:** Hey guys! Once again - I seem to be doing this for all my stories - I apologise! I've been so inactive and it's just maddness, I tell you! I've been settled into our new house for a while but I just couldn't bring myself to write, considering I left all good things on the otherside of the country. So, to be honest, I've been mooping around for the past two weeks, trynig to find friends and failing miserably. So tonight, I just thought - ah, well, fuck it, let's just get it and hopefully I'll get some _**positive reviews **_to cheer me up!

So, I'm hoping you guys like this chapter, though it is a bit more mature near the end... *grin*

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**Chapter Five**

_**Friday**_

"Rodrigo has no idea how to run a fucking school!" Ezio growled, kicking a rather large looking rock, only to miss it and stub his toe against the curb.

"Ezio... the punishment you received was reasonable..." Leonardo mumbled, keeping his eyes on the concrete road as they walked out of the school. Desmond sighed as he looked at Ezio and Leonardo, both of them tense in their own ways. Though, Desmond was in agreement with Leonardo. A month of detentions after school with Mr. Hastings and a different elective instead of art? Now Desmond would never be able to talk to his teacher about the little mistake (more like big) he made at lunch. Or at least, he wouldn't be able to for a month.

"No it was not! Come on, and each of them are for an hour too! That's... that's..."

"Twenty hours, Ezio-"

"Twenty fucking hours with that tight ass! No thank you!" Ezio huffed and adjusted his backpack as they began down the main road and for a moment, Desmond believed he saw Mr. Hastings pull out and drive away. Then again, it wasn't like that was a rare thing, he did it every single day. Not that Desmond watched him. No, he wasn't a stalker of any sorts.

"Mr. Hastings can be... nice, sometimes. He's just missing something, Ezio..." Leonardo sighed with disappointment, wishing his friend could understand. Desmond scoffed and tightened his grip on his backpack strap. Just thinking about him now started to annoy Desmond. But for a moment, his thoughts trailed away from the irritating actions and the way he spoke and transitioned into something else. He imagined himself sprawled out on the teacher's desk, pushing off essays as Mr. Hastings began to undress him with quick and skilled hands. He could watch as his teacher began to undo his own, favourite black slacks to reveal perhaps hot pink briefs and just maybe, he would start to pull them down so he could-

"Desmond! Anyone in there? Your mouth is open so wide I could shove a watermelon in and you'd be fine." Ezio laughed, punching his friend hard in the shoulder. Desmond flinched and snapped out of his fantasy and looked around him, noticing that the school was no longer in sight.

"Sorry I was busy thinking about something else..." Desmond trailed off, not willing to share any of his thoughts with Ezio.

"Aww, come on, you can tell us! We won't tell a soul, right, Leo?" Ezio smirked and swung an arm around Leonardo's neck, pulling him in to noogie the top of his head, rubbing against his hat. Leonardo laughed as he tried to pull away pathetically, earning a small smile from Desmond as they continued to walk.

"Nah, it's nothing. But what's with you and Altair, Leo?" Desmond grinned, trying to direct the conversation somewhere else. Ezio suddenly let go of Leonardo, who pulled away hastily. Panting slightly, Leo adjusted his hat and his bag before he jumped up onto the curb, balancing as he walked, placing one foot playfully in front of the other.

"Nothing is with Altair and I..." Leonardo blushed as his lips twitched in a small smile. Desmond grinned a bit when Ezio suddenly found the ground a lot more interesting than he had just moments before.

"Right," Desmond nodded and pulled his iPod out of his pocket, immediately grinning when a picture of Batman crouching and flying on Superman's back greeted him before he unlocked the screen. Effortlessly he opened the music page and went straight to recently added, smiling when the new album he downloaded was listed in track order. He gently tapped 'Ain't No Rest for the Wicked' by Cage the Elephant, off their self titled album. Plugging his right ear bud in, he watched as Leonardo and Ezio bantered quietly over Malik and Altair. It almost made Desmond laugh.

But that laugh got caught in his throat as they passed a soccer field in use.

As he looked over, through the two story high fence, he saw two teams battling it out for dominance of the ball that was making its way towards Desmond. It struck hard against the fence from a powerful kick, causing Desmond to flinch slightly. But when a player in a green and white striped jersey came to grab it, his heart sank into his stomach. He was still wearing his glasses, his cheeks flushed a bright red and Desmond could clearly hear his teacher's heavy panting.

"Mr. Hastings...?" Desmond called out, catching the attention of his two friends who ran over to the fence to join him.

His teacher merely glanced at him before he picked up the soccer ball, turned his back and threw the ball in perfectly (at least in Desmond's eyes it was perfect). Desmond watched as Mr. Hastings jumped back into the game, on his toes and eager for the ball to come back in his direction. And it did.

"Go wide! Wide!" Shaun shouted and passed the ball to his left then made a run up the line. Desmond watched with his fingers wrapped into the warm metal of the fence links how Mr. Hastings moved, quickly and efficiently as he passed through the set of defenders. He made his way to a breakaway, with the defence trailing weakly behind him. Desmond clutched harder to the fence and he watched him wind up for the kick that would possibly get him a goal.

"No pressure, Mr. Hastings!" Ezio suddenly shouted, causing Shaun to take his shot a little too early. Desmond watched, cringed and sighed when the soccer ball hit the crossbar and one of the defenders managed to clear it out for another throw in. Desmond watched as Mr. Hastings turned around towards their direction but he couldn't exactly see his face; though he could guess it was probably one of annoyance and irritation.

"Ezio! Jeez, wasn't that a dick move?" Desmond snapped at him, still watching the teacher turn to play the game, jogging back to his position.

"Well, he deserved it. After all, he was the one who sent me to the office," Ezio huffed and noticed a set of bleachers on the other side of the fence. "Hey, why don't we go watch?" His grin was mischievous as he looked at Desmond, who glanced at Leonardo and he could tell that he was slightly uncomfortable about the situation.

"Nah, let's head back and-"

"No, you two may watch. I should head home anyways... I have painting lessons after school," he smiled meekly before he started walking backwards.

"Aww, so soon? I didn't even get to make a move on ya," Ezio grinned and turned to his friend, ignoring Desmond's presence completely. Leonardo blushed and stopped in his tracks, then opened his arms for a hug. Ezio laughed and squeezed him, making sure to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Leonardo mumbled a goodbye to Desmond, who did the same, his eyes still on the field.

"Come on," Ezio smirked as he watched Leonardo walk down the street, carrying all his books. Desmond nodded and followed him to the bleachers, where he set his backpack on the dry ground and sprawled out, taking a large breath.

"Man, I hate that Altair guy..." Ezio grumbled, doing the exact same as Desmond. They sat together, both watching the game where the soccer ball went back and forth on the field, neither of the teams able to get proper possession.

"Huh? What's wrong with Altair? He's cool. Laid back, smooth, nice, keeps to himself but that means he isn't an arrogant dick and-"

"But that's exactly where you're wrong, Des. He is an arrogant dick. He plays that loner kid style to seem mysterious and draw people in. Inside, he really is a massive attention whore," Ezio chuckled as one of the players got ploughed down by the keeper, who managed to get his hands on a loose ball.

"What, and you're not?" Desmond teased, only to receive a punch in the shoulder from his friend. Ezio laughed and kicked up his feet, trying to single out the one who was his teacher.

"So, do you have the hots for Mr. Hastings or something?" Ezio raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at Desmond, whose face suddenly turned a bright red.

"No! Of course not, he-"

"You so do," Ezio smirked and sat upright and stared at Desmond, urging him to spill more.

"Nah, the guy's shoved up his ass too much to seem likable and he's ugly as fuck. Even Vidic's better looking," Desmond laughed, finding the words unnatural coming out of his mouth. Vidic was pretty damn ugly, though.

"Ha! That's what I like to hear," Ezio smiled and pulled Desmond into a headlock, ruffling what there was of his hair. Desmond grunted and pulled away from Ezio, punching him playfully in the stomach. In return, Ezio pinned him down on his back to the uncomfortable wooden blencher, rendering his hands useless as Ezio held them above Desmond's head. But Desmond still had his feet, which were kicking in order to get Ezio to jump off.

"Anyways," Ezio said as he stuck his knee up between Desmond's legs with a sinister smile, causing Desmond to freeze.

"Cheap bastard," Desmond muttered.

Ezio laughed. "You wanna come over for a sleepover tonight? I got nothing else to do."

"If you get off me, I will," Desmond sneered but smiled when Ezio rolled his eyes and slid off him, sitting upright to watch the game. Desmond looked up to see that the players were just clearing the pitch, signalling halftime. Desmond watched Mr. Hastings reside to the bench with a stern expression on his face. For a moment, he caught his gaze and all air around him disappeared. It was like everything else just crumbled to nothing and he was stuck in the 5th dimension. Just him and Mr. Hastings.

"Hey, let's go, shall we?" Ezio nudged Desmond, who was suddenly pulled back to reality.

"Yeah, alright..." He replied with reluctance as he slipped off the bench and grabbed his backpack grudgingly.

"Man, I wonder who's gonna move into that new house," Ezio mused as they began up his steps.

"Hey, wouldn't it be great if it were Mr. Hastings?" Desmond laughed, consciously hoping that he was right. Ezio laughed and pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocking the massive looking door in front of them. As he opened it, Petruccio rushed over and gave Ezio a massive hug.

"Ezio!" Petruccio shouted happily, squeezing him as Federico walked out from the bathroom.

"Hey, bro! What's up?" Ezio grinned as he picked up his younger brother, hugged him and set then him down.

"Nothing! Mom and dad made dinner and you're kinda late – is Desmond staying?" Petruccio looked at him and Desmond could only smile back, his mind still on his teacher.

"Yeah, I gotta let the 'rents know. Whatcha doing, Federico?" Ezio asked as he followed him out to the kitchen, where Desmond suddenly picked up an alluring scent and trailed behind the two brothers.

"I'm going out later on tonight – though you should know, dad got a call from the school about your little... moment," Federico grinned and slipped into the kitchen before Ezio could get in another word. With a sigh, Ezio walked in to see Giovanni and Maria at the kitchen, both bickering over something unimportant to him. Silently, Ezio took place at the table, which had already been set and Desmond joined him reluctantly.

"No, you are not going out tonight to meet your 'business partner'! Enough's enough, Giovanni! You have been going out for this business too much – I want you home tonight in our bed, nowhere else," Maria snapped, glaring at her husband with sharp eyes.

"Maria! I have to do this – how else do you think I bring income in? The bank-"

"The bank pays you well enough, Giovanni! You do not need another job on the side-"

Ezio cleared his throat loudly.

"Ohhhh! My son!" Maria turned around with a forced smile on her lips, though Desmond saw that Giovanni made no effort to create a warm environment around him. "Where have you been? I hope not visiting the neighbour ladies again – I await the day they come to me with complaints of your mischief."

Ezio laughed, grinning as he glanced at Desmond. "Nah, I just-"

"Ezio, I know all about your incident with the art teacher this afternoon – do not bother to retell the story in your words."

"But father!" Ezio began but was silenced by a sharp glance from his father.

"Ezio, such things are disrespectful and not tolerated by those with higher authority and the _next time you do it,_" Giovanni began to raise his voice and Ezio shrunk just a tiny bit in his seat, "try not to get caught – it's quite a bother, trying not to laugh over the phone as the principal tells me what happened." Ezio's father broke out into a large grin, walked over and slapped his hand against Ezio's shoulder, who couldn't help but grin like the trouble maker he was.

"Giovanni! Do not encourage him!" Maria scolded, though with a twinkle behind her eye. Desmond hid his smile as he looked down at the placemats, acting as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

"Anyways!" Ezio called out before the two partners could start a light hearted argument. "What's for supper?"

"If you could be patient for one moment, then you'd know," Maria laughed, smiling at Desmond as she began to call all her children to the table. Desmond always felt welcome at family dinners at Ezio's house – everyone was warm and happy, in complete contrast to the constant misery at his own house. Anywhere but home was better for Desmond. Even if he had a choice between his own house and a lion's den – at least the lions would get it over with quickly instead of making him suffer.

"God damn, Ezio," Desmond laughed as they made their way up the stairs, stomachs bursting with warm, well cooked Italian food; eyes almost near bleeding from the constant watching of family television.

"What? I love my mother's cooking – it kicks any other chef's ass. And come on, spending an hour with my family afterwards watching TV and making snide remarks isn't that bad," Ezio smiled as they walked into his bedroom and Desmond sighed, hoping at least some of it had been turned around. There was a bunk bed, larger than most, in the corner of the room. The walls were littered with multiple posters; varying from porn stars – or so Ezio tells him, they're not very attractive – to artists and movies. Desmond glanced at the desk in the corner, knowing that its contents weren't that of study, but more so of pleasure. Desmond shuddered whenever he was near that drawer.

"You don't need to phone your folks, right?"

"Fuck, I will later. Or they can just worry about where I am, I really don't give a shit," Desmond scowled, instantly causing Ezio to roll his eyes and turn on the TV in the opposite corner of the room.

"Christ, Desmond – what's the matter with you?" Ezio tested, raising an eyebrow as Desmond quickly climbed onto the top bunk and tossed his sweater at his friend. "Hey!"

"Nothing's the matter with me – I just have nothing to do all Spring Break. It's boring," Desmond faked a yawn as he sprawled out on the bed, listening as Ezio searched through drawers for an extra set of pyjamas. In moments, Desmond found himself wearing green plaid pj bottoms, without a shirt, since Ezio didn't have any clean ones and Desmond wasn't touching any of Ezio's dirty shirts. Not even God knew what some of those stains were.

"Well, I'll tell you something," Ezio settled into his bottom bunk, trying to hide his massive grin as he flipped through the channels.

"What now? What chick did you score, Ezio? We all know about your irresistible charms, so do grace me with this knowledge," Desmond smirked and felt Ezio kick the bed underneath him. "Watch it!"

Ezio laughed. "No, man! Maybe_ you'll_ score a chick! My parents are gonna be away for a couple of days over Spring Break and they're leaving Federico in charge of the house. He's letting me throw a house party one night, then the night afterwards he's throwing one with all his grade twelve friends – most of them are douchebags but whatever, it's all fair."

"Really?" Desmond looked at the TV, only to see the screen covered with a pair of nude breasts. He instantly looked away. "That sounds great – count me out."

"Why? You need to do some social shit, Des. Leave your books at home for once, man – enjoy life! This is high school, the last few years of freedom! Come on man, I'm pretty much inviting our whole grade plus a few other cool people. It's gonna piss off all the neighbours but fuck 'em," Ezio laughed, and made a noise of approval at something on the TV – Desmond didn't even want to know. He began to kick the bottom of Desmond's bed.

"Fine! If you stop kicking the bottom of my fucking bed, I'll go! How's that?" Desmond growled playfully, sighing in relief when the kicks stopped.

"Great. Now, if you'll mind, I'm continuing from where I left off on this porno some guy lent me."

"Ezio! Here? Now? Seriously?" But he was ignored and instead, was answered to the sound of a woman moaning softly. Desmond's ears flushed red as he stole a glance at the TV, only wishing he hadn't. A teacher faintly resembling Mr. Hastings was underneath a busty blonde, who was bouncing up and down on him. Desmond's mouth instantly went dry as he found the tension in his boxers grow tight.

"Hey, uh... Ezio?"

"Yeah? What is it?" Ezio asked, eyes glued to the bombshell blonde.

"Do you have any Kleenex?" Desmond asked; it's not that he was a prude, he just found watching porn to be mildly dirty. Instead of answering him, a whole, unopened box was tossed up and Desmond just barely caught it as he positioned himself. "Turn it down a little, Ezio... It's loud..."

"Fuck you," Ezio chuckled as he turned up the volume, knowing that everyone had either gone to bed or was downstairs, where they wouldn't hear the television. Desmond crudely let his eyes fall on the TV but instead of watching the slim, mildly attractive woman, Desmond's eyes were all over the man and his appealing physique.

_If only..._ Desmond mouthed as he closed his eyes, pretending that his hands weren't his own.

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**A/N: **Leave a review, you guys! Please? They do make me feel so much better... *smiles*


	6. Saturday, First Kiss

**A/N:** Holy crap! Look how long this chapter is! Thank googleit6 for that because she's just so awesome and kept cheering me on to write this. So, finally things are starting to actually have a plot! I have some pairings already set up and I can assure you Ezio's party will be the longest chapter of all. And hurrah! Proper slash, at last! Between who? Well, you'll just have to read right? Expect updates to come faster because I'm finally inspired to write this story ~

And thanks to googleit6 once again, because she kindly beta edited this story and did it faster than I probably would have. And I also wanted to thank everyone who reviewed so quickly! Having that many reviews definitely helped me write this so quickly. So, review more!

**EDIT:** And damn it, doesn't like asterisks anymore, so for breaks I'll just have to use the break line.

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**Chapter Six**

_**Saturday**_

Desmond woke to Ezio's earthquake inducing snore at six in the morning.

Groaning, Desmond rolled onto his back at looked at the plethora of tissues at the end of his bed. He heaved a sigh when he thought back to last night and the things he had clearly imagined. Tummy grumbling, Desmond sat up and crawled down the ladder silently, knowing he wouldn't wake Ezio. Treading the hallway carefully, he managed to make his way to the bathroom without bumping into anyone. He flipped the seat up and relieved himself, trying to shake Mr. Hastings out of his thoughts but he just couldn't do it. It was like telling Ezio to stop thinking with his dick; which clearly wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Quickly, Desmond washed his hands and stretched, looking at himself in the mirror. To his surprise, he saw faint stubble coming through, and although he had never grown a beard and disliked most of them, Desmond decided that he wanted to grow some stubble. It made him look older and perhaps it was Mr. Hastings' kind of thing. Pulling at the skin under his eyes, for the first time, Desmond regarded his complexion. Though before he could examine himself fully, there was a slam on the door.

"Hey, Ezio! Hurry up! You take as long as Claudia! Now hurry up!" Federico yelled, probably waking everyone else up in the house. Quickly, Desmond reached for the doorknob and swung it open, catching Federico by surprise. "Oh. Desmond, it's just you. Sorry, man- thought you were Ezio," he grinned and stepped into the bathroom, causing Desmond to step out just as fast. Trying not to wake anyone else, Desmond tip toed back to Ezio's room and seated himself at the desk. Making sure the speakers weren't on, he booted the computer up. Stifling a yawn, Desmond typed in Ezio's password – belle figa – and instantly found himself looking at a year old photo of Leonardo, Ezio, Malik, Altair, Kadar, Federico, and himself. They had spent the day together at the carnival which Desmond had read was coming into town again this year. Desmond had been surprised Ezio's desktop background wasn't a pair of knockers or a close up of a half naked ass.

Smiling, Desmond opened up internet explorer and clicked into his email and instant messaging before glancing at the clock, noticing it was only six twenty four. Who the hell would be on-

_(6:24 AM) __**Malik –**_

_good morning_

Desmond smiled. So at least one person was on. Closing his email, he returned to the message window.

_(6:24 AM) __**desmond –**_

_morning to you as well – why up so early?_

_(6:25 AM) __**Malik – **_

_couldn't sleep, what about you_

_(6:25 AM) __**desmond – **_

_i slept over at ezios house last night, he snores like a fucking giant and I suspect he wont be up until noon because with how fair his skin is, he must get lots of beauty sleep_

_(6:25 AM) __**Malik –**_

_only you would notice his fair skin_

_(6:26 AM) __**desmond –**_

_shut up it was supposed to be a joke_

_(6:26 AM) __**Malik – **_

_lol trying to cover yourself, way 2 go_

Desmond laughed silently, looking over his shoulder for any sign of Ezio waking. Looked like he was in luck, for the boy was still drooling into his pillow.

_(6:27 AM) __**Malik – **_

_do you maybe want to do something today? tho i have to babysit kadar :/_

_(6:28 AM) __**desmond –**_

_you still babysit him? hes in our class!_

_(6:28 AM) __**Malik –**_

_ya our parents fail to see that hes not ten years old anymore I kinda feel bad for him_

_(6:29 AM) __**desmond –**_

_well... he is kinda short for his age and by kinda i mean a lot but sure – what do you have in mind?_

Desmond was staring at the clock in the right hand corner of the computer. Nine fifty three.

_(9:53 AM) __**Malik –**_

_You still there?_

_(9:54 AM) __**desmond –**_

_yeah I just cant believe we've talked for this long haha_

_(9:54 AM) __**Malik –**_

_well it is nice company ;) and we need to pass the time until noon anyways_

_(9:55 AM) __**desmond -**_

_yeah good point anyways, so – I'll meet you at the park at noon and we'll just... hang out for the day? we'll meet at loner bench?_

_(9:55 AM) __**Malik –**_

_sounds good to me_

_(9:55 AM) __**desmond –**_

_alright well I'll talk to you later – I think I hear sleeping beauty rising out of her sleep. Thank god she didn't need a prince to wake her_

_(9:55 AM) Malik –_

_You could have done the job rite_

_(9:55 AM) __**desmond –**_

_How flattering of you Malik but I am hardly a prince_

Desmond grinned at the idea and waited for Malik's next reply, which for the past two hours had been non-stop as if he was the only thing the other boy had been focusing on.

_(9:59 AM) __**Malik –**_

_you underestimate yourself des, just give it a chance_

_(9:59 AM) __**desmond –**_

_? give what a chance?_

_(9:59 AM) __**desmond –**_

_?_

_(10:00 AM) __**desmond –**_

_**Malik!**_

_(10:02 AM) __**desmond – **_

_Come onnn_

_(10:02 AM) __**Malik –**_

_See you at the park at noon_

_(10:02 AM) __**desmond –**_

_Damn you Malik! You won't have the last word!_

_(10:03 AM) __**Malik –**_

_But I always have the last word._

And before Desmond could type anything witty back, a message popped up in the right hand corner.

_Malik has just signed out._

With a sigh, Desmond quickly looked to see if he had anymore messages and to his disappointment, he didn't. With reluctance, he shut down the computer and turned around, only to have Ezio standing right over him.

"What's got your panties in twist?" Ezio yawned, stretching, allowing his shirt to raise slightly and Desmond's eyes followed the trial of brown fuzz to the hem of his boxer shorts.

"Nothing! I was just... setting up plans later for today," Desmond mumbled and gazed elsewhere.

"Huh, because by the way you're avoiding my gaze and shit... I'd expect something is up."

"That's bullshit," Desmond stood up and began to gather his stuff. Quickly, he changed into his clothes from yesterday and borrowed Ezio's deodorant. He was fully aware of Ezio watching him closly but Desmond had to get home and change.

"What is it? Lucy asking you to come over for a sleep over?" Ezio crossed his arms and watched Desmond tug on his jeans.

Desmond looked at him with blank eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"She has a thing for you, Desmond. Are you blind? Tap that ass."

"No way!" Desmond felt his face flush as he pulled on his belt and grabbed his backpack. He had no idea why he was so flustered.

"Are you leaving already? What about breakfast?" Ezio scowled and grabbed Desmond's arm as he began to make his way out the door.

"Yeah, I gotta get home before my parents do. They get home from work always late in the morning. Thanks for having me over, I'll text you – alright?" Desmond sighed and jerked his arm away from Ezio and ran down the stairs. Without reluctance, he pushed through the front door and ran down the steps, making way to his house. Just as he made it to the bottom of the driveway, a voice suddenly called out to him. A familiar voice.

"Hey – kid! Want to grab me that paper? Paper boy doesn't know where the hell to put the paper when there's a mailbox right up near my door, idiotic twat..." A British voice trailed off near the end and Desmond felt himself break into a cold sweat. _No._

As if everything were in slow motion, Desmond turned around to see a tall man wearing glasses, dressed in a simple red robe standing at the top of his porch with a mug. In an instant, Desmond felt his heart explode and he thought he was going to die.

_Mr. Hastings was Ezio's new neighbour?_

As soon as they made eye contact, Mr. Hastings' lips parted slightly but before he could say anything, the mug slipped from his hand and smashed all over the floor, spilling a dark, hot liquid all over his feet.

"Fuck!" Mr. Hastings shouted as he jumped back and rammed himself against the door, groaning with pain. Desmond felt all the blood drain from his face before he hastily bent over, picked up the paper and flung it at his teacher's porch so it would land on his steps. But instead of landing on his steps, the paper collided with the side of Mr. Hastings' head, causing him to shout a string of curses before he began to make his way down the steps with a very, very large scowl.

Before Mr. Hastings made it to his driveway, Desmond bolted down the street, ignoring Mr. Hastings' hollering for him to return. Pushing himself, Desmond ran as far as he could before he had to stop and bend over for air. Gasping, Desmond slowly stood up and looked behind him and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he didn't see his teacher behind him. With a small job, Desmond ran up to his house and was glad that there wasn't a car in the driveway. Looking around, he made his way to the front door, pulled out his key, and unlocked it.

Without making a sound, Desmond stepped into the spacious, white house and closed it behind him. He took off his shoes and kept them on the matt, trying not to get a single speck of dirt on the ground. The whole place was pristine and not a single thing was out of place as Desmond made his way through the hallway carefully. Desmond sprinted up the stairs and jumped into the bathroom, taking a shower in under five minutes. As he jumped out, he listened for his parents, praying that they hadn't got home. The house was still as silent as ever.

He made his way to his room and grabbed a change of jeans and shirt. Except, when Desmond changed into his outfit for the day, he didn't want to wear it. With a frown, he undressed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a different shirt but he didn't like that, either. Groaning in frustration, Desmond tried another shirt and decided he would keep it. A simple American Eagle polo shirt with his slightly ripped jeans that he fallen too many times in. Looking into the mirror, he sighed with frustration, but ended up just grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his pocket. Before he could cover up his tracks, however, he heard the front door to the house open and his parents' bickering at each other.

"His shoes! He's home!" His mother cried out and Desmond could immediately hear her drop everything and begin to search the first floor of the house for him. Panicking, Desmond rummaged in his closet and pulled out a pair of shoes, since his favourite were down at the front door. To his annoyance, he pulled out a pair of pink high tops that Ezio had bought him as a birthday gift three years ago. But without having a choice, Desmond ran over to his window and flung it open as he heard his father running up the stairs.

"Desmond! Come here, Desmond! You're not in trouble- just come here!" His mother shouted and he could tell that she was at the bottom of the steps. Without thinking it over, Desmond tossed himself out the window and clung to the ledge, feeling the strain in all his muscles. Carefully, he began to scale down the side of his house, being careful to avoid windows just in case his parents were nearby any of them. When his feet harshly landed on the ground, he could hear his father yelling out his wide open window, followed by a string of heavy curses. Now it was a race for Desmond to run before his father made it to the front door.

"_Desmond!"_

He began his sprint, shoeless as he ran down the driveway, hearing the front door open just as he met the street. Pushing himself harder than he had escaping from Mr. Hastings, he ran down the street and kept running, even as his lungs felt as if they were going to explode. He needed to get to the park and he knew if his parents caught him, they would be severely pissed off with him and most definitely ground him.

As he made his way into town, he finally slowed down while he heaved a giant breath of air and doubled over, feeling his whole body ache. People were staring at him so he collected himself as quick as he possibly could and before he even took a step, his phone began to ring. Quickly, he slipped on his high tops and tied them up in record breaking speed. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, staring at the name flashing on the screen.

Home.

Gathering up all his courage, he pressed talk and pressed his cell phone to his ear.

"Desmond Nolan Miles! You are in big trouble, young man!" His mother screamed, causing Desmond to flinch and hold the phone away from his ear, fearing the ear-splitting volume. "Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to reach you and you never answered your phone! Where are you now? Why did you run from us? We were worried sick and-"

"Mom! Calm down, I'm in town. I'm meeting up with a friend and-"

"Is this friend a prostitute? Are you meeting with a drug dealer? Tell me the truth, Desmond!" She cried out and Desmond could hear her literally crying on the other line.

"No! Not at all! His name is Malik – you've met him before! Why the hell do you think I'd be doing that?" Finally, he pressed the phone back to his ear, trying to slink away from the glares of random strangers passing by.

"Well, you're never home! I always think the worst, Desmond!"

"I'm fine, really. I'll be home tonight, okay? I promise," he sighed and kicked himself mentally.

"... Okay. When? I want an exact time."

"How about..." Desmond looked at his watch. It was almost noon. "Six?"

"Fine. We'll have dinner on but Desmond, please be careful... There are very weird people in the city... We were so worried that you might have been killed..."

"Why would you think that?" Desmond began to walk to the park inside the city, taking his time as he passed by stands filled with wondrous crap. His mother didn't answer as he looked at a photo of Venice, Italy. It reminded him of Ezio, how his friend always said he'd take him there one day when they were old enough to drink.

"Have a good time in town, today, Desmond. I love you," she whispered into the phone.

"Yeah, I uh, love you, too," Desmond mumbled, embarrassed as he walked away from a stall and walked into the lush, green park which was shaded with numerous trees. He ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Walking into the park always made Desmond feel like he was walking into a king's garden. The grass was always green, cut to perfection and never had a single fault in it. The trees casted far shadows and shade for anyone walking along the smooth gravel pavement, regarding the rainbow of flowers always aligned perfectly and sprouted with their pedals in full bloom. Desmond felt completely at ease that he wasn't even anywhere near the city and tall buildings; that he was in some special reserve for a forest on the edge of being cut down, but saved in the nick of time. Walking on the pathway, Desmond finally came across Loner bench and sat down, fulfilling its name. But he wasn't alone for very long.

"Why do they call it loner bench? I never really asked," Malik sat down beside him on his right, while Kadar sat on Desmond's left.

"Well, from what I remember, the people who usually sit on this thing are loners who have no friends and they just watch everyone else go by." Desmond shrugged. "It's dumb, but whenever I'm here and I walk past this bench, there's always a heartbroken lookin' kid or lonely old man sitting on it."

"Think the two have anything to do with each other?" Kadar chuckled, causing Malik and Desmond to roll their eyes.

"I hope not. What did you guys have in mind for today?" Desmond looked at them both, smiling at Malik and then Kadar. They both shrugged simultaneously.

"Well, I was hoping we could go to the mall," Kadar suggested, raising his eyebrow when both of the older boys looked at him. "I want to buy a new shirt for... this girl I like..." And when Kadar said something about a girl, both Malik and Desmond's cheeks blushed a soft red.

"You... uh, never mentioned something about a girl," Malik looked at him, leaning in slightly and Desmond immediately caught that Malik was breaking into his personal bubble. Slightly embarrassed, Desmond tried to lean back into the bench but was already as far as he could go.

"Well... I don't know, I just didn't want to say anything. Does it kill to have a secret?" Kadar frowned and Malik sighed, pulling back slightly. Desmond sighed, although more in relief than anything else.

"I guess not, but... Who is it?" Finally, Malik broke out into a grin and Desmond felt himself lighten up.

"... Maria," Kadar smiled and Desmond caught a certain gleam in his eye that he had never seen in the young teen.

"But doesn't she really like Altaïr?" Desmond asked, wishing he hadn't let the last word leave his lips. He instantly felt Malik tense up beside him for reasons unknown.

"Well... I don't know, she's been talking to me lately and all so..." Kadar smiled slightly, "I just want to impress her and get a new kick ass shirt!"

Desmond laughed, and then was followed by Malik's delayed laughter. "Fine, fine – we'll go shopping for you and maybe I'll find something too, I want a new hoodie." Desmond grinned, stood up and instantly, the two boys were beside him. They began to walk to the mall and managed to manoeuvre their way through the maze of streets that lead them to their destination.

"Do you shop at lot, Des?" Kadar asked and looked up at him, and for the first time, Desmond noticed how he was almost a head shorter than him.

"Uhh, not really. My parents don't give me money to go out shopping but I found a fifty dollar bill like, a month ago and I haven't blown it yet," Desmond laughed, grinning as he recalled the memory of finding the bill on his neighbour's lawn. He couldn't recall a time he had jumped so hard on anything.

* * *

At first, Desmond thought it would have been awkward, but to his surprise, it wasn't at all.

It wasn't like he hadn't hung out with Malik before, but it was never just the two of them (it was like Kadar wasn't even there). They had always been in groups and Ezio had usually taken the social awkwardness and tossed it out the window. But here with Malik, all things seemed to just slide into place. Kadar would often pipe up and mention something, cueing Desmond or Malik to speak up to either correct him or tell him a story.

"But I thought-"

"Well you thought wrong," Malik grinned and ruffled his younger brother's hair, much to Kadar's annoyance. Desmond smiled and reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

"Any of you ladies want an ice cream?" He grinned, causing Malik to chuckle under his breath and Kadar's eyes to widen like a tiny child's would have.

"Yes please!" Kadar beamed and sauntered over to the flavour chart, eyes scanning the numerous kinds. Desmond looked at Malik, who shook his head.

"Why not?" Desmond asked, watching as every step he took closer, Malik's cheeks turned a tiny bit redder.

"I just... don't want one. Go ahead, buy Kadar one and-"

"It's fucking hot outside and you're telling me you don't want an ice cream? I think you're just trying to be a girl and reject my sweet, love proposal to you," Desmond laughed and poked Malik in the shoulder. Malik stared at him, wide eyed.

"Er... I-I guess it is pretty hot... Just vanilla please."

"Hey, vanilla's my favourite!" Desmond grinned and went to get three ice cream cones from the vender. He wasn't surprised when Kadar wanted Cotton Candy. He handed a fiver over and took two Vanillas (Kadar had instantly taken his and began to lick at it at a frantic pace). He walked over to Malik, who had taken a seat on a nearby bench to rest his tiring feet.

"Here you are, m'lady," Desmond smirked and handed Malik his ice cream cone, causing Malik to take it with a small, mumbled thank you. Desmond watched as Kadar began to devour his ice cream cone, biting large chunks out of it rather than small licks. "Slow down there, cowboy. You're gonna give yourself-"

"Brain freeze!" Kadar cried out and clutched his head, earning a laugh from Malik and Desmond at the same time.

"He told you so," Malik smiled and nibbled at his vanilla ice cream, letting the taste linger on his tongue.

"Come on, get up you lazy ass – let's go find Kadar some shirts and a sweater for me," Desmond winked and turned around, completely missing Malik's jaw fall. But out of the corner of his eye, Kadar watched his brother quickly recompose himself.

"Hey, how about you two go check for sweaters at American Eagle? I'll meet you guys there – I wanna go grab something for Maria at a store on the first floor. I'll meet you guys in the store, alright?" Kadar grinned widely and before either of them could reply, he took off in a stride fast enough to be considered a jog.

"... Huh," Desmond cocked his head slightly and took a big lick of his ice cream. Before he could stop it from happening, his whole scoop fell to the floor, splattering over his shoes. Malik stared for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"It's not funny!" Desmond sighed and chucked his empty cone into the trash. Malik laughed and took a teasing lick of his ice cream, making sure he kept Desmond's gaze on him. Desmond rolled his eyes. "Asshole."

"Jeez, Desmond – if you want, you can just have some of mine," Malik sighed and offered it to him. With a grin, Desmond leaned in and licked it from the tip of the cone right to the top, sticking his ice cream coated tongue out at Malik as he pulled back. "Mature, real mature."

"Hey, why is it when you're with me, you're so loose and fun to hang out with? But when Ezio or Altair are around, you get all tense and dare I say...stoic?" Desmond grinned and playfully punched Malik in his the shoulder.

"It's not my fault," Malik shrugged, smiling back slightly. "Ezio just bugs the hell out of me, he does all that crap to annoy Altair who doesn't really give a shit. I think Altair has some weird crush on Leo," Malik heaved a sigh.

"... But... I thought you and he..."

"Wait, what?" Malik looked at him, deer in the headlight style.

"I mean... you two were always close and-"

"Desmond, he ignores me in class and when we hang out, it's usually silent. He's like a different person around Leo," Desmond saw that Malik's lips were turning into a frown. He didn't exactly want this to turn into an all out emotional bawl.

"Well, whatever – if he doesn't like you, he's missing out. Forget Altair, why don't you hook up with me?" Desmond laughed teasingly. "We look the same, though I'm a bit warmer than he is."

Malik stared at him and for a moment, and Desmond thought he had said something that had offended him or something.

"A bit? More like a lot," Malik finally said after several long, awkward moments. "You're fire, he's ice."

Desmond smiled and took a lick from Malik's ice cream. "Well, that's a nice confidence booster."

"I told you that you're capable if you try," Malik looked away, trying to hide his corny smile. And for a moment, Desmond felt his heart flutter.

"Oh, right. What was that all about-"

"American Eagle! Come on, let's find a hoodie for you!" Malik finished off his ice cream cone and tossed it in the garbage before he walked into the sweet smelling store. They walked around, regarding the shirts that all seemed similar in one way or another and made their way to the far wall of the men's side, where hoodies were lined up according to colour. They walked over and began to browse through them, grinning as they realized that Desmond practically had all of them already.

"All that's left are extra smalls – did you already buy out all the extra larges?" Malik laughed and pulled out an azure blue hoodie and help it up to Desmond's chest.

"Ha-ha, you're so funny," Desmond smirked. "I can fit an extra small any day."

"Ten bucks says you can't," Malik grinned and leaned against the wall, and pulled a ten dollar bill out his wallet.

"You just bought me dinner," And with the challenge, Desmond took the pull over hoodie, picked up a pair of skinny jeans just for the laughs and went to the change room, Malik following close behind him. With no one else in the store, there wasn't even someone at the door so they both just slipped in and picked the door on the farthest right.

"Ten bucks," Malik repeated and leaned against the wall, watching as Desmond stuck his tongue out and shut the door. He took his jeans off and jumped into the skinny jeans, trying not to laugh as he bounced around, trying to stuff himself into them. Finally, he managed to do up the button and zip up the zipper with a little bit of difficulty. He then began to pull on the sweater, but about halfway through, he realised it _was_ way too small. But after about a minute of struggling, he managed to pull it completely over his head, though he felt as if he was going to die of asphyxiation. Feeling the sweater tear at the seams, he managed to open the door and Malik's face was priceless.

"Christ, Desmond! You leave nothing to the imagination!" He laughed and doubled over, stealing glances at Desmond that only caused him to laugh harder. Desmond began to laugh but it hurt, so he had to fight the laughter rising in his throat.

"Help... me... out," Desmond breathed, smiling as Malik rose an eyebrow and walked over to him, still laughing. Malik grabbed the bottom of the sweater and tugged, but the thing didn't budge. He tried again but once again, it was to no avail.

"Holy crap... This thing is like, glued to you," Malik smirked and tried to give a quick, hard tug, but only sent Desmond stumbling back into the change room to slam his back against the wall.

"Jesus! Trying to start a fight?" Desmond laughed. "That was like a bad ass shove!"

"Sorry," Malik chuckled and walked into the change room, accidently letting the door close behind him. The small room seemed a lot smaller than it had looked. Desmond found himself pinned against the wall as Malik kept trying to yank the sweater off, though he wasn't doing too great of a job. Quickly, Desmond felt himself getting warm and he could actually feel a bead of sweat form on his neck.

"New skin for you, Des," Malik teased him but with a quick jerk, Malik finally yanked the sweater off and flung it hard against the wall. "Whew! We got it!" Malik cheered but instantly found his cheeks redden as he noticed that he had accidently taken Desmond's shirt off with it. For a moment, Malik's eyes were staring into Desmond's but then they trailed down slowly, taking in Desmond's body. Without knowing it, he cautiously reached out and pressed his fingers lightly against Desmond's abs, earning a small gasp from Desmond because of his cool touch. Missing a beat, Malik awkwardly looked at him, silence speaking louder than any of the words he said earlier.

Then suddenly, Desmond was remembering all the words he had said earlier. _Have I been... flirting?_

Desmond watched, butterflies in his stomach, as Malik slowly leaned in and tilted his head, eyes closed. Without meaning to, Desmond did the same and the minute he felt Malik's lips touch his own, a violent shiver ran down his spine. With reluctance, Malik pulled back and opened his eyes the same moment Desmond opened his.

"I... I just kissed you..." Malik whispered, licking his lips which were suddenly dry.

"Yeah... I, uh... guess you did..." Desmond mumbled, trying to pull away from his gaze. But he just couldn't. He sort of... felt bad for Malik in a way he couldn't understand.

"C-can... Can I do it again?" Malik asked hopefully, closing more distance between his body and Desmond's.

"Uh..." He couldn't reject him. "Y-yeah... sure."

And Malik leaned in and kissed him again, this time better than the last. Without even knowing it, Desmond suddenly found his hands on Malik's hips, drawing him closer. But before he could do anything else, Kadar's voice echoed through the change room.

"Hey, Desmond, Malik! I found a cool shirt! Are you guys in here?"

Quickly without warning, Malik jerked his head back as if he was snapping into reality. Desmond was still too stunned to say anything more.

"Yeah! We're in the only closed change room you idiot!" Malik replied and Desmond could tell he was instantly nervous.

"Whatcha two doing?" Kadar grinned, although neither of them could see it. Quickly, Desmond grabbed the sweater, pulled his shirt out of it and tossed it over his head in a new record time. Malik opened the door.

"He got an extra small sweater and tried it on, it was too tight. What about the skinny jeans though, do you like them?" Malik looked at Desmond, eyeing him up. "I think they look good."

"Do they?" Desmond blushed and looked in the mirror. They didn't look half bad. "Alright, I'll... just, uh... take them." He closed the door and stood still for a moment, trying to hear what the two brothers were whispering to each other. But over the sound of changing jeans, he couldn't hear a single word. And he didn't know if that was good or bad. When he opened the door again, Kadar was holding a tee shirt.

"What do you think?"

Desmond looked at it.

"Muse? How do you know she likes Muse?" Desmond rose an eyebrow, careful not to make any eye contact with Malik.

"I looked at her Facebook profile."

"You mean stalked," Malik added in. "She hasn't accepted your friend request yet."

"Shut up! She will, I know it!"

* * *

"Desmond, are you okay?" Malik asked as they began to turn the block to Desmond's house. Even though they had taken the bus most of the way back, his feet were sore from walking a mile or two from Malik's to his own house. For some reason, Malik had wanted to leave Kadar at home. It wasn't like he was going to invite him in; he still had shit to sort out with his parents.

"Yeah, I'm just... tired," he smiled at Malik, who smiled back shyly in return. Since they began to walk alone, the kiss hadn't even been brought up, so Desmond figured Malik had decided to forget about it and he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore.

But with Malik's next words, he doubted he would be forgetting it anytime soon. "I like you, Des, I really do. I mean... before it had always been like a friend but just... today, it kind of changed that."

"Oh," was Desmond's only reply as they walked up quietly to his door. He looked around, just in case any neighbours were watching them. He didn't feel like anyone's unwanted eyes were on them.

"I... I was wondering if you felt the same," Malik asked quickly, just as Desmond's hand landed on the knob.

"... Malik... I..." Desmond wished he hadn't the minute he looked at Malik because instantly, he could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. Desmond knew exactly how it felt and he couldn't help his next choice of words; he was just trying to prevent Malik from getting hurt.

"Yeah, I like you too," Desmond smiled and let go of the doorknob. He cupped Malik's cheek with his right hand and leaned down to kiss him gently. It was a longer kiss but as Desmond pulled away, he knew it definitely wouldn't be the last.

"Call me later?" Malik's face was bright pink as he stole another quick kiss, caught up in the moment. Before Desmond could answer him, Malik hugged him tightly and Desmond figured that Malik didn't get too many hugs. Quickly, he squeezed him and let go, promising that he would call him.

With a sigh, Desmond opened his door and stepped inside. But to his horror, his mother was standing at an angle that Desmond knew she could see what happened at the front door.

And her expression wasn't exactly a happy one.

* * *

**Review to find out what happens next!**


	7. Saturday & Sunday, Caught

**A/N:** Hey guys, it's me! Sorry I haven't been updating but I got some baaaad news for you. My computer has gone to the shits and I won't be writing/doing much for the next while until they fix it. We're taking it in tomorrow and either they can fix it or they can't, or I get a new laptop. So, this may take a while. You can guys at least hold on to this; a very rough, short, unbeta'd chapter which I went over only twice (both times exhausted as ever). I swear to god I'll write better crap because once we get to Ezio's party, shit is gonna be going doooown.

**Edit:** By the way, if you were wondering, I gave Malik two arms and it's got reasoning behind it. Sorry about that, if I mention it earlier but I changed it now.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_**Saturday/Sunday**_

"Mom! Uh... Hi..." Desmond smiled shyly, feeling his face turn the brightest red possible.

She merely looked at him with a blank expression, lips moving slowly as if she were trying to say something but nothing came out.

"That... uh, just... Malik. Friend. Uh... Boy?" Desmond felt himself getting incredibly flustered; his words weren't even coming out right. But silently, he took the bullet and cast his gaze on the floor, trying to ignore the burning stare of his mother. "That... did you see that?"

It finally roused a word from her. "Yes. Yes I did, Desmond."

"Oh," Desmond bit his lip, wishing for the pain to get over with. He had discussed this kind of thing with his mother before and she always condemned it, saying it was a terrible sickness that infected the mind. He clearly remembered her calling "homosexuality" a parasite that would latch into its host's brain and turn their thoughts vile.

"Mom..." Desmond began but his mother turned around, a hand to her mouth.

"You know how I feel about this kind of thing."

Desmond felt his heart sank. It was almost worse than Mr. Hastings rejecting him.

"... I know but-"

"Then why'd you do it outside our door?" His mother began to raise her voice and Desmond wanted nothing more than to crawl into a tight ball. But before Desmond slip out, his father walked in.

"Stephanie? What seems to be our problem?" His father asked with an eyebrow raised, but a sudden wave of shock washed over him when he saw his wife crying.

"George... Desmond is a homosexual!" She cried out, wiping her eyes with her white, long sleeve.

"... Oh." He slowly looked at Desmond, who suddenly felt his legs turn to jell-o and he could barely stand as he held onto the doorknob.

"I-I can explain..." Desmond began, but his dad merely shook his head and walked over to hug his wife.

_Great,_ Desmond thought. _They both hate me._

"No... Desmond, that's quite alright," George began. "I... just... would you join us for dinner? Or have you already ate...?"

Desmond looked at him, confused as ever. Wasn't he supposed to be yelling at him?

"Uh... I-I ate already," a lie fell from Desmond's lips and he immediately regretted it. He wanted to talk to his parents about this.

"Wait... so... That's it...?" Stephanie pulled away and looked at her husband. "You're not... going to get angry?"

"... Honey, let's talk about this quietly," he took his wife's hand, pulled it to his lips and kissed it gently. Desmond would have rolled his eyes, had he been in a lighter mood but now wasn't the time.

"I'll... just... be in my room?" Desmond slowly began to slink towards the stairs and his mother immediately moved out of the way and walked out with his dad. He could hear her crying as he made his way up the steps and into his room. But finally, once he shut the door, he couldn't hear them talk anymore.

"... Idiots," Desmond mumbled and fell onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Then he suddenly felt incredibly stupid and got back up, looking for something to do. Before he could walk over to the PlayStation 3 in the corner of his room, his phone vibrated. With a sigh, he pulled it out and flipped it open to find a text from Malik.

_Hey, are you ok? You seemed kinda tense the door... -m_

Desmond frowned. He definitely wouldn't be telling Malik about Mr. Hastings. Then a suddenly guilt overcame he and he slowly found himself typing out on his keyboard.

_I cant do this Malik – I love someone else too much... -d_

But just before he pressed sent, another text popped up.

_Were you just nervous about the kiss? haha it was my first one so I hope it was okay... -m_

Quickly, Desmond held backspace button on his phone, making sure his message wouldn't get sent. Instead, he typed out something completely different before he sat down on his beanie bag chair.

_Yeah you kinda caught me off guard there -d_

Desmond started up his PlayStation 3, surprised to see Ezio was online.

_Im sorry :(? -m_

Sighing, Desmond invited Ezio to join him in Dead Rising 2 campaign co-op.

_Nah don't be, I cant wait for the next date. -d_

He felt slightly bad but then again, perhaps things could work? Although, his mind always wandered to his teacher. He felt sick, wondering what the man was doing right now, if he was thinking of him the way he was. If Mr. Hastings was with men from downtown like Ezio had said. Desmond then started to think about how experienced he was, how well his hands could work Desmond up and his lips... Desmond didn't even want to start thinking about his lips but he did, causing him to get aroused when he didn't exactly want to.

_Really? Well, I can make that pretty soon if you want ;) –m_

Desmond groaned. Even though he was talking with Malik, he found himself thinking about Mr. Hastings and how great his thighs would look as Desmond would slip off his pants. Biting his lower lip, Desmond got up and locked his door, making sure neither of his parents would walk in on him. Slowly, he began to undo his jeans, thinking about how fantastic it would be if Mr. Hastings would do all this for him, holding his smaller body in his arms. Curling his toes, Desmond began to jack off again, finding he was going to be doing this kind of thing more frequently.

Naked, he wanted Shaun to climb on top of him, not being gentle in the slightest bit. He really wanted his teacher to fuck him so hard he-

Suddenly, his phone began to ring his and his ring tone of [insert cool song here] began to go off. He was just about to leave it keep ringing when he noticed the name on the screen. _Malik Al-Sayf. _Taking a deep breath, he stopped and picked it up.

"Hello?" Desmond breathed, instantly sending shivers down his own spine.

"Oh, hey. You just didn't respond to my last two texts, I kinda figured you forget about them or something," Malik laughed nervously, but Desmond could hear how embarrassed he felt. He knew Malik didn't want to come off as clingy, but it was their first proper relationship – or at least, Desmond figured that was it.

"Oops, sorry, I just kinda got... uh, pre-occupied..." Desmond mumbled, feeling his face flush.

"What are you doing?" Malik asked and Desmond groaned lightly, finding out that his right hand had a mind of its own as he slowly began to rub himself again, phone in his left.

"Just... stuff," Desmond's breath hitched and he immediately bit down on his tongue but it was too late – he knew Malik knew what he was doing.

"Oh. I'll just uh... call you back..." Malik said awkwardly and just as Desmond was about to flip his phone shut, Malik called out. "Wait!"

"Nghn... What?" Desmond grunted, feeling himself growing redder by the second. It just felt so good, he couldn't exactly let go. Licking his lips, Desmond closed his eyes and kept thinking of Mr. Hastings doing down on him like they did in the videos.

"My parents aren't home and... well... Kadar is outside so... Y'know... I could slowly rub your inner thighs and begin to lick to your base and-"

"Wait - what?" Desmond immediately stopped and his eyes flashed open.

"Uh... just... I think they call it phone sex and..." Malik suddenly found himself going into a tangent and all the meanwhile, Desmond was going soft.

"Look, uh, shit... I gotta go, my parents gotta talk to me I'll talk to you later," Desmond said as fast as he could and only hung up after he heard Malik say a reluctant goodbye. Carefully, he tossed his phone into his laundry hamper and groaned, shutting off his PS3 with annoyance.

"Why can't anything go fucking right?" Desmond mumbled to himself and flopped down on his bed. With a frown, he curled up in his sheets, waiting for his parents to come up and bang on his door. But they didn't. Not for the three hours he laid in bed, doing nothing but trying to get some sleep.

* * *

_I don't want to go out today..._ Desmond thought to himself as he looked at the clock. It was already noon.

Instead he hopped onto his PlayStation 3, played for a couple of hours and went downstairs every once and a while to get something to eat. With his parents at work, he didn't need to worry about getting caught by them. He hated the way they kept things, how they always wanted to know where he was, as if someone was tracking him down and if something was going to happen, they needed to get to him first. It was uncomfortable, always having their eye on him like a protective hawk of its babies. So instead, he tried to avoid them as best as he could knowing that even in the end, he didn't really get along with them well.

_Over protective mother,_ Desmond had repeated in his head for the past five years, knowing that she was only trying to do her best as a mom.

The day went by without a single change of clothes as Desmond wasted time on his PS3, starting with a hundred zombie kills and ending up with a thousand.

He hadn't even noticed that his laundry basket was missing until Monday morning.


	8. Creating a Heart & Breaking Another

**A/N:** Wow, okay. This chapter was made ALL in ONE night. I played Brotherhood and I got so inspired to write this. Anyways... Hope you guys enjoy this - I write especially for my readers & reviewers. This chapter was a lot easier than the other ones and it seems soon enough, you guys will be getting what you've been waiting for. Just be patient and keep on reading!

And thanks for waiting this long :)

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_**Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday**_

Desmond pushed back his sheets frantically, stomach filled to the brim with dread.

He swung his feet over his bed and jumped up, looking for his overflowing laundry basket. He needed his cellphone; he had to delete the texts from yesterday. But what if Malik sent new texts? Surely Malik wouldn't mind_ sexting_ if he was willing to do _phone sex_! Desmond groaned out loud as he stared at where his laundry basket should be – but wasn't. Desmond ruffled his fingers through his hair – or at least what he had left of it, it was growing in pretty quickly – wildly, in frustration that was ready to explode.

It was noon, so his parents had to be out at work. Desmond tugged on a pair of pj pants, glancing at the _American Eagle_ bag before he walked downstairs shirtless, finding it relatively warm. The sun shined through the window, making the whole white house light up magically. Desmond hated this house – how modern it was and that everything in it had to be perfect. Including the people. Desmond assumed his mother wasn't happy when she figured out her son had a 'flaw'. With a groan, he made his way to the kitchen and sighed as he began to open the cupboards. All his favourite foods were fresh, unsealed and ready for him to chow down.

Desmond knew his parents; they were going to make him feel guilty as hell for the first while.

Frowning, Desmond noticed a small folded up piece of pink paper on the kitchen island. Hesitantly, he approached it then picked it up, opening the note with fear.

_Your mother just has some things to figure out. I always sort of knew. Take more care of your phone, Desmond._

_Love, Dad._

Well, at least he could rely on his dad if things turned sour. But what did he mean that he... always sort of knew? Had Desmond been giving out gay signs without even knowing it? Biting his lip, he noticed beside the note was his cell phone, turned off – obviously someone had turned it off. He picked it up and flipped it open, waiting for his screen to welcome him as it did most of the time. Desmond stood for a minute, waiting for his phone to respond. But that's when he remembered that it only had one bar of battery left and that it had probably died sometime in the night. Quickly, he ran up to his room and tossed the place upside down looking for his charger. But of course, it was already plugged into the wall behind his bed. As fast as he could, he plugged the thing in and waited eagerly as he screen booted up and he had his welcome screen greet him.

There were no new messages; either that was good, because Malik hadn't seen him any, but it could be bad, meaning his mother had looked through them. Eagerly, he went to messages and then received. His heart sank a tiny bit as he noticed three texts that he hadn't read, but weren't marked as unread.

_Sorry 2 bother you during that... -m_

_You have no clue how bad my hormones are -m_

_I wish i could have been there to help you uh come... –m_

Desmond wanted to scream. Who sent texts like _that?_

Just as he was about to delete them all, a new one popped up in the middle of his message purging.

_Wanna come over today? –m_

Desmond bit his lip as he began to make his way to the bathroom. He already knew what would happen if he went over to Malik's house – a lot more kissing would ensure. And Desmond didn't know if he exactly wanted that – well hell, he did, just with someone else entirely. Quickly, Desmond pulled down his PJ pants and his boxers, setting his phone on the counter. He slipped into the shower, smiling as he felt the warm water beat down on his back and relieve him off some of the stress that had been building up. Maybe he could call Ezio, see what he was doing, all to stare at his next door neighbour with a pair of binoculars through the window like a creep. Desmond groaned as he thought of Mr. Hastings. He wanted nothing more than to see the inside of his house, to see what his bedroom looked like. Anything to feel his sheets, to snuggle underneath them and to lay his head on his pillow. Desmond wanted to see what kind of shampoos he used, if he used scented or regular soap. What kind of coffee he drank in the morning – or if he was an expresso drinking person. Desmond wanted to scan his teacher's bookshelf, see what kind of novels he curled up with at night. Desmond suddenly felt jealous of the books – the fact that they had Mr. Hastings undivided attention and gaze for hours. Suddenly Desmond laughed, feeling ridiculous. Jealous of books? Pathetic. Desmond sighed as he washed his hair, feeling his legs turn to jelly as he imagined Mr. Hastings' arms around him.

But then Desmond remembered how much he wanted Mr. Hastings to moan his name in his amazing British accent, and he knew he wouldn't be able to let go. It was infatuation, not pure devotion. Desmond was smart enough to know the difference between the two. But maybe if he had the time to get to know his teacher – maybe lust could bloom into a subtle shade of love.

Just the thought of being in love made Desmond smile, no matter how corny it was.

When he stepped out of the shower, he walked over to see that Malik had texted him _again_.

_sorry if I seem clingly… I just want this to work… if you dont want to hang its ok -m_

Desmond sighed. How long had Malik liked him? He couldn't say no – he knew how the cold slap of rejection felt. Quickly, he texted that he would be over in ten minutes.

"Hey, Leo, it's Ezio."

"Oh, hey," Leonardo smiled, holding his phone to his ear. It had been a while since he had heard Ezio's voice.

"Want to come over today? Everyone's out." Ezio grinned. He remembered Friday – how they had almost kissed. _Almost._

"Oh, sure. I have something to tell you too!"

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you when I get over. See you soon!" Leonardo laughed, barely holding in what he wanted to say.

"Alright, don't be a slowpoke. Get your ass over here!" Ezio smirked, playing with a coin in his hand.

"Hi," Malik smiled shyly and let Desmond walk in awkwardly. Slowly, Desmond took off his shoes and put them by the door, in case he needed to make a quick break for it. "Where are your pink Converse?"

"Oh. Those… uh, I couldn't find my other shoes," Desmond blushed.

"I remember when Ezio bought those for you… When, last year?" Malik took Desmond's jacket and hung it up, and Desmond bit his lip. Perhaps he could leave that jacket behind if he had to. It would be hard, but maybe he could sneak back in and take it when he was sleeping. Already, Desmond was thinking of an exit strategy and planning routes through Malik's hallways.

"Yeah, something like that." Desmond replied back blankly, mentally slapping himself in the forehead. _Come on Desmond, try to make it so you care,_ his conscience tried to talking him out of being an asshole, but it was hard. He wanted Mr. Hastings to grab his hand and pull him up down the stairs, not his old friend. As they went down the steps, Desmond remembered how many times he had been here. As they passed the rec room, Desmond wanted nothing more than to bury his face into the leather sofa that sat in front of the small box that hardly resembled a TV, but worked perfectly fine. He wanted to go back to the time where he, Malik, Ezio and Leonardo had played pool in the corner. Desmond wanted someone else here – so that they wouldn't have to be alone. And suddenly, when they walked into Malik's large bedroom, Desmond felt threatened. Before, it hadn't been a big deal – lying on Malik's bed, watching good bad movies until midnight and then falling asleep side by side. But now, suddenly everything was a tiny bit different.

"What do you want to do?" Malik asked as he reached over Desmond's shoulder and closed his door with a grin.

"Uhh… doesn't matter to me," Desmond mumbled. _Anything but make out._

"Want to watch a movie like usual?" Malik smiled and suddenly Desmond felt a bit better. Something familiar.

"Sure. Whatcha got?" Desmond tried his best to sit casually on the bed, trying not to invite Malik to jump on top of him. Instead, he sat cross legged, watching as Malik crouched down to go through his collection of DVD's. They had watched all of them at least twice. He wondered what Malik would pick out this time now that they were… dating?

"How about… 28 Weeks Later? I'm in the mood for a zombie flick," Malik laughed and Desmond smiled at him, nodding. For some reason, Malik's Arabic accent soothed Desmond, it reminded him of Altair. Who he knew wouldn't want to get in his pants.

"Sure. I wouldn't mind some blood and guts either." Desmond grinned and fell onto his back, relaxing slightly. He looked around, staring at the posters of movies that they had taken from the theatre. Or so, Altair or Ezio had gotten for him. Desmond had taken one – the Sherlock Holmes one. It had been a Christmas present; Desmond remembered seeing that movie on opening day with Malik and how he had eyed the poster. Desmond looked for some sign of Malik's heritage but found nothing – he never did embrace it like his parents did with their rooms. It was like walking into the 12th century Jerusalem when he looked at their bedroom. His… boyfriend's book shelf was filled to the brim with novels that he had collected over the years, starting from the Cat in the Hat to what he had just recently purchased, a novel on physics for his grade twelve course. Desmond sat up and pulled himself up to the head board, adjusting the pillow so he could lay against it comfortably. He watched as Malik popped the DVD into his PlayStation 2 and jumped back on the bed, wearing a pair of simple blue jeans and a plain green t-shirt. Desmond faintly remembered telling Malik how nice the colour seemed on his olive toned skin. The trailers began as Malik sat beside Desmond, stretching his legs out and leaning slightly against his new boyfriend.

Desmond felt himself gulp loudly as Malik pressed play and the movie began.

Leonardo walked in through Ezio's doors, only to be greeted by a massive bear hug. Leonardo found it strange, usually he was the one to hug Ezio or anyone else – not the other way around.

"So, what's this exciting news you have to tell me?" Ezio grinned, waiting for Leonardo to confess his feelings. They had been so close to kissing at lunch but then during Art, there had been a sudden change in his intentions. Ezio figured it must have been the miserable weather.

"We have to sit down for this," Leonardo grinned as he kicked off his shoes and raced to Ezio's kitchen, with his friend trailing right behind him.

"Oh?" Ezio smirked and stayed close to Leonardo, constantly invading his personal space. He couldn't tell if Leonardo noticed or not, but he had to drop hints. Tell him it was okay. Tell him he wanted Leo to kiss him. That he wanted to kiss Leo. That it was weird. Strange, kind of a foreign feeling but damn, Ezio wanted to kiss his best friend so bad.

Leo rummaged through his cupboards, looking for a snack. Ezio turned around, opened the pantry and tossed Leo a packet of skittles. This seemed to be what Leo was looking for, because he instantly opened the package and devoured them all in a single dump of the bag into his mouth. Ezio looked at him, eyebrows raised and waited for his friend to finish.

"Well…?"

Leonardo looked at him with bright eyes. This was it. This had to be. Ezio felt his heart skip a beat and he leaned in closer to him, ready to kiss him when the moment was right.

"I think Altair likes me!"

This hadn't been exactly what Ezio had been waiting for. "And this is good news how…?"

Now it was Leonardo's chance to be hesitant. He even blushed slightly and Ezio found it absolutely adorable. Better than the way the girls at school blushed.

"… I like… I like Altair, Ezio…" Leonardo smiled sheepishly at his friend and Ezio felt his hope shatter all around him.

"Oh."

Desmond could tell Malik was losing interest in the movie, and gaining some in nudging Desmond's foot with his own. It wasn't annoying, but it wasn't amusing. He occasionally felt Malik nudge into him closer and Desmond could tell that Malik wanted him to put his arm around his shoulder. And just so he wouldn't make it awkward in case Malik asked, he gingerly did so. He felt Malik's warmth instantly and it unnerved Desmond more than he could comprehend. Here they were, two close friends, two _guys, _cuddling like a boyfriend and girlfriend would. Desmond knew that Malik's masculine frame felt more comfortable than a tiny female's, but it wasn't the right age. He wanted Mr. Hastings. He wanted to feel his rough hands, his experienced and older lips on his neck, on his own lips. And that's when Desmond noticed he was curling a strand of Malik's hair. He looked over, feeling the dread fill his stomach, only to meet Malik's eye.

Words caught in his throat, he could only smile.

And that's when Malik jumped on the open opportunity, kissing him hard.

Desmond nearly fell back, but he still had his arm around Malik's shoulder so he couldn't exactly pull back quickly without hurting Malik's neck. Instead, he let Malik kiss him, hardly moving his own lips along to his eager boyfriend's. Desmond didn't feel the flare in kissing Malik. Something inside him twisted up, but it was nothing like Desmond had read or experienced with his failed kiss with Mr. Hastings. But something suddenly changed and Desmond felt his cheeks turn hot and his heart hammer inside his chest.

Malik gently climbed into his lap and straddled him and Desmond gasped audibly, breaking their kiss for a moment.

"Is this okay…?" Malik whispered, running one hand along Desmond's chest and the other rested on his waist, playing with the fabric of Desmond's shirt. Desmond didn't exactly know how to respond. In a way, it felt good but in another, it felt completely wrong. Like he was betraying Mr. Hastings. Then Desmond reminded himself he was being completely silly – he and Mr. Hastings would never be. They were their very own Romeo and Juliet, without actually ever getting the chance to fall in love. So without saying anything, Desmond leaned in and kissed him, his lips battling for dominance against Malik's. He heard the younger boy make a surprised noise before he began to kiss back, with all sorts of emotions and feelings exploded within them. Desmond titled his head, so their noses weren't crushing against each other anymore and slowly but surely, he parted his lips slightly, kissing Malik harder and more passionately. Desmond quickly closed his eyes, feeling awkward seeing Malik so close that he could almost see his pores. Desmond felt his cheeks flush as he heard Malik moan softly and this noise felt like music to his ears.

Desmond heard Malik's breath hitch as he tore away from the kiss and started to suck at his neck, a sudden instinct overpowering him. His moist lips felt odd against Malik's warm neck and Desmond felt Malik's fingers run through his hair, grabbing a fistful of it when Desmond brushed his lips gently against Malik's collar bone. Opening his eyes slowly, he got a lungful of Malik's freshly showered scent, a soothing scent of Old Spice, something that heightened Desmond's senses. Without even knowing it, his fingers suddenly ran across blazing hot flesh and Desmond glanced down, to see his hands slipping up under Malik's shirt. Desmond felt his cheeks burn as he glanced at Malik, who was biting his lip and curling his toes.

"M-more…?" Desmond asked awkwardly, unsure of what he was offering. Everything he had just done – he had no clue he could do it.

"Please," Malik breathed, squirming on Desmond's lap. It didn't take much to turn him on, apparently. But Desmond felt the same way. He wanted more, he wanted to explore more of Malik and kiss him all over. As slow as possible, he began to peel Malik's shirt off, grinning as he watched him raise his arms to help him. Without thinking about it, Desmond began to kiss his chest, grazing his teeth over heated flesh, running his fingers up his side and along his back, feeling every muscle that Desmond never thought he had. But Desmond couldn't explore anymore, Malik was tugging at his shirt, trying to get it over his head. Without reluctance, Desmond helped him and suddenly they were both shirtless, trying to suck the life out of each other as they kissed clumsily, trying to keep the fire between them burning.

Then before Desmond knew what he was doing, he pushed Malik off him and onto his back. Climbing on top of him, Desmond pinned Malik down and lowered his head to kiss him again, this time softer but it still held the same amount of desire that had overcome them both. Butterflies in his stomach, Desmond slipped his warm, moist tongue into Malik's mouth to earn a loud moan from him. He felt his own tongue glide across Malik's and suddenly, something over came he that he wanted _everything_ so badly. A sporadic lust worse than any other feeling Desmond had felt. It was like a poison, taking over his body, but at a much faster rate.

Desmond hadn't meant for it to go this way, but suddenly they were a flurry of limbs, pants and moans trying to fuck each other with their clothes on.

"You… You like Altair?" Ezio tried to make the thought work in his head, but it just didn't.

"Yeah! Didn't you… know?" Leonardo frowned, feeling Ezio's mood darken dramatically. "I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner… It was just… We've been hanging out lately and-"

"You two have been hanging out? _When?" _Ezio had never seen them hang out outside of school.

"He comes to my painting lessons sometimes and just watches me paint. He's so…" Leonardo searched for the word. "…Patient."

Ezio wanted to snarl, to hurl a lamp across the room. He was being patient because he was _waiting_ for something from Leonardo. Ezio knew he wasn't a player like himself, but he was a cunning bastard. But Ezio saw in Leonardo's eyes how his thoughts of Altair were very different.

"Alright then. That's cool. Tell me how that goes then," Ezio scoffed, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. It was almost painful to keep his mouth shut.

Leonardo beamed and hugged him tightly. "Thanks… I knew you'd understand, Ezio. You're like a brother to me…"

_Then why in God's name did you try to kiss me?_ Ezio growled inside his head, hugging his lost opportunity tightly.

It wasn't until they heard Malik's parents get home that they stopped, both drenched in sweat and the room reeked of dry friction. Desmond glanced at the clock and nearly laughed out loud. It was almost dinner time. After 28 Weeks had finished, they popped in a movie, not caring which one, just for background noise as they tried different kisses in different parts. Although, they both insisted on keeping their pants on but at times, Desmond found Malik's hands wandering to his belt buckle and he knew that he had wanted it _bad_.

But it was only the third day. He wasn't going to lose his virginity on their third day, for Christ's sake. But Desmond knew it was almost time – he was in grade eleven after all. He was seventeen. Ready for action, while still young, not quite an adult yet. But when both their stomachs were growling like mad, they decided to wander upstairs to the kitchen (putting on their shirts first of course, and soaking themselves in cologne). Desmond hadn't even checked his phone all day and when he opened it as they were going up the second set of stairs, he found urgent messages from Ezio.

_des I have a crisis on my hands –e_

_Wait nvm that last text nobodys dying –e_

_U cool 2 hang out tomorrow? –e_

_Ask me u idiot –e_

_Too busy jerking off to porn? –e_

Desmond laughed and shot off a quick text, telling him that he would be too busy to hang out tomorrow, but that they could hang out Wednesday and that he had news to tell him. He then dropped his phone into his pocket and followed behind Malik. His parents were shuffling around in the kitchen, and it sounded as if they were unpacking bags.

"Wait, have you… y'know… told your parents…?" Desmond whispered into Malik's ear, nibbling it slightly.

"Oh. Yeah… They know. They're okay with it - I was kind of surprised. I figured they would have sacrificed me on the altar," Malik laughed and took Desmond's hand, wheeling him into the kitchen. Before Desmond could tell him how lucky he was, their family began to shoot off a conversation in Arabic. Somewhere in the foreign language, Desmond heard his name mentioned, and Kadar's. Somewhere he heard Malik's parents reply with the word Maria. Desmond smiled, surprised when he felt the scent of Chinese food fill his nostrils.

"We're having Chinese food. My mom's too tired to cook," Malik grinned and ran to the table, immediately helping himself. Desmond saw Malik's mother wink at him out of the corner of her eye before she smiled politely at Desmond, whispering words to her husband. Desmond had always liked Malik's parents, unlike him at school, they were easy going, kind, and always polite to the guests they had over. Their smiles were never forced, they were always genuine. Desmond stole a glance at Malik and quickly regretted it, seeing all the marks that had set in on his neck. _Hickies galore_, Desmond groaned in his head.

Ezio was lying in his bed, listening to Leonardo pour out his feelings about Altair. The boy had always been passionate, but that had been about art and music – now it was about a guy that Ezio, to be quite honest, had always been jealous of. Altair was quiet, but he was always casting his eyes across the room, calculating everyone, making assumptions and kicking ass. He was smart in his work, knew when to keep his mouth closed but when he spoke to insult, they did more damage than Ezio's idiotic name calling could ever do. His calm insults cut like knives, while Ezio's merely bounced off anyone who wasn't intimidated by him.

"He's so nice and he's actually a gentleman. I never expected that but he really is, Ezio. He knows how to cook and whenever I'm at his house, he makes me dinner because his parents are hardly around. He's so independent, it makes me feel like I'm living with him like we're at college or something. It's amazing Ezio. _He's_ amazing."

When Desmond got back to Ezio, he sighed out loud. He didn't want any more news.

Especially if Desmond was going to pull a Leonardo and drop a bomb on him; like if he had a secret gay lover. Ezio swore he might punch someone if any more people around him turned gay.

"Are you listening?" Leonardo asked and kicked the bunk bed, earning a groaning 'yes' from Ezio.

"Anyways, and so…"

"That was good," Desmond smiled and licked his lips, trying to savour the taste of the wonderfully fresh Chinese food in his mouth. "Tasted great."

"Not as great as you," Malik laughed as he began to change into his PJs. Desmond blushed and stole a pair of Malik's track pants, feeling right at home as he laid on the bed and let Malik jump into his arms. With a smile, he pressed play on the PlayStation 2 controller and another movie started up, and this time, they watched it without breaking out into a sudden make out session. Desmond felt calm, that perhaps being with Malik wasn't so bad. He would definitely get his satisfaction for his hormones on a regular basis and now he had someone he could curl up and sleep with. They were moving fast but Desmond was too lost to start tracking his steps back. They were both comfortable, probably from the years they had gotten to know each other before hand, and Desmond wasn't going to jeopardize that.

Instead, they watched through 50 First Dates, exchanging small kisses that held nothing more than a small flutter of affection.

Not lust.

After the movie was over, they laid in each other's arms, listening to the clatter of Malik's parents upstairs as they turned on the TV and began to watch Prime Time TV.

"I never expected to be lying with you here, like this," Malik admitted as Desmond thumbed Malik's dry lips, feeling how swollen they were after their hours of kissing. Desmond was lying on his side, as was Malik, as they stared into each other's eyes.

"No? And why not?" Desmond grinned, feeling as if they were the only two people left in this whole world. Anything else didn't matter but them, the only two people in this room, with each other.

"Because… I always thought you were straight," Malik sighed and nipped at Desmond's thumb playfully.

"Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?" Desmond chuckled.

"Why yes, I bite my thumb at you, sir," Malik replied in a monotone, and instantly burst into fits of laughter.

"Well, I guess I'm not – if that reassures you in any way," Desmond smiled and pressed their lips together momentarily before he pulled away, staring into Malik's hopeful eyes.

"I know – that kiss in the dressing room… It uh, kinda cleared things up," Malik grinned and snuggled into Desmond's chest.

"Hey, one sec," Desmond pulled away and sat up, much to Malik's confusion. Desmond pulled off his shirt and laid back down, pulling Malik into him. "There, better."

"Much better," Malik whispered and wrapped himself around Desmond's warm, sculpted body. It was better than the usual stuffed animal.

Grinning, Desmond mumbled into Malik's ear, "this day went by too fast."

"Tell me about it." Malik snorted and kissed Desmond's chest softly, sending shivers down his spine. "It took us an hour to eat. Then that movie was almost two hours long… It's almost nine."

"And I'm exhausted. You wore me out today, you dick." Desmond laughed.

"Oh shut up and stop your whining. That was only first base too."

Desmond felt a blanket of awkwardness begin to set onto them.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, wait until second," Desmond felt Malik grin and a sudden confidence loom around him. Desmond felt slightly uneasy. He had never seen this side of Malik before and even so, he was adjusting to a more affectionate and secure person. In a way, Malik had been like Mr Hastings, always condescending and being negative about the world. Just purely cynical. Perhaps that was just him when he had to wake up early in the morning and attend physics, art, history and gym. They were pretty painful subjects for second semester.

"Oh. Okay." Desmond bit his lip and felt his eyelids begin to droop, fatigue battling his consciousness. "Shit, I'm gonna pass out soon. I think I'm gonna try to sleep. I'll see you in the morning, alright?" Desmond yawned and kissed Malik on the top of his head before he closed his eyes, hearing Malik mumble something into his chest. He didn't have a chance to answer him because almost instantly, he fell asleep.

The Tuesday morning wasn't awkward at all, unlike Desmond had thought it was going to be.

He woke to find Malik still sleeping, arms draped across Desmond's waist, snuggled close to his boyfriend. It only took him five minutes to wake after Desmond and when Malik opened his eyes, Desmond was filled with an odd warmth that he had never felt before. It made him feel content, at home, perfectly safe and secure with Malik in his arms. Like nothing could hurt him.

"Morning," Desmond whispered and Malik returned his greeting with a smile.

Instead of getting dressed and going home, Desmond stayed. He let Malik rest in his arms, waking up slowly, slightly grouchy but Desmond's smile seemed to melt his negativity away, as silly as it sounded. They talked about last night, how wonderful it had been, how endearing it was to wake up to each other (Desmond was surprised to hear Malik saying 'endearing'), what movies they would watch, what to have for lunch (breakfast first), and if Desmond would stay for dinner. He would.

And in between the movies and the TV shows, there was kissing. Lots of kissing.

Malik's parents were gone and even once, they heard Kadar step in. But as soon as they heard him came in, they heard him leave just as quickly. He must have seen Desmond's shoes at the door.

It was like they were glued together. Desmond was even tempted to take his shower with Malik – but that was too soon. Maybe another month or so. Desmond was forgetting how alike he was to Altair in looks, how quick that had bonded (almost too quick to be true), and how sometimes when the talking grew thin, hungry kisses would take over and even then, they wouldn't stop until stomachs growled or someone had to use the bathroom. Desmond found Malik intoxicating, impossible to stay away from.

This is how Desmond knew Malik was his first actual boyfriend. Someone he was now serious about. Four days – it seemed like forever to him.

Twice, Desmond had gotten dressed and every time, he seemed to lose his shirt only ten minutes later. Both of the times, Desmond had let Malik begin to undo his belt while trying to keep rhythm to his breath taking kisses. Desmond felt their hot bodies pressed together, grinding and trying to make the other person break first. It was almost Malik every time who lost, begging for Desmond to kiss him or run his hands over his ass. Desmond liked Malik's ass – it was firm, something he liked to grab onto when he pulled him in for a kiss. It made everything feel so much more sexual, not that they weren't getting hot and heavy without groping. But Desmond wouldn't let Malik near his crotch, even though Malik tried to lead his hands there, Desmond couldn't do it. Not yet.

And whenever Malik began to undo Desmond's zipper, there was an eager excitement in his eyes as he went for the next step, to pull down Desmond's light blue boxers. But Desmond wouldn't ever let him. He could grab his wrists and pin him either against the headboard, the wall, or down on the bed, kissing the thought of doing anything second base related, out of his pleasure filled brain.

Desmond hadn't expected to stay a second night in a row, having dinner with him again. This time, they slept in their boxers. One less article of clothing than the night before. Desmond knew he had to leave in the morning, or else he might regret how his hormones would make him do crazy things. They slept like two butterflies in a cocoon, fitting perfectly together as they fit in all the right places. And Desmond learned that Malik always liked putting one leg over Desmond's thigh and wrapping his foot around one of Desmond's own.

It made him smile on Wednesday morning that he learned for the first time in all of their years, that Malik snored.


End file.
